Every Which Way But Booth
by littlemisselvee
Summary: AU S6 Now complete! Hannah and angst free! Who wins the "get-Booth-and-Brennan-together" Office Pool? Laugh along with me as we find out! Rated T for humor. Reviews appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**Every Which Way But Booth**

**Author's notes:**

**Before I go into the storyline, let me say I am a huge fan of Dr. Kathy Reichs and the Bones TV show. I've wanted to see Booth and Brennan as B&B the couple for five long years. Sadly, it's not looking good this year either. (Sigh.) After so much disspointment, I thought it was high time I took things into my own hands.**

**I've read so many great FFs with fantastic and creative ideas on how B&B finally (FINALLY) realize they belong together. For my own FF I was going to slowly build things up, give it some tension, some heat and some angst. That was before I realized something huge:**

**I am angst-ed out.**

**So, with that in mind, I've decided to write something lighter and recruited just about every cast member I can think of to help.**

**If you want to experience angst, serious commitment and a sweaty B&B, please look elsewhere to the truly great Ff available by the talented authors on this site.**

**However, if you (like me) have wrung your hands too many times waiting for the Hollywood writers to please us, the loyal audience, feel free to laugh along with me. I'll poke a little fun, stack the odds overwhelmingly in our favor and have the the brilliant scientists, agents, psychologists, lawyers and chefs gang up on our lovable but obtuse B&B.**

**The prologue that follows is silly, short and intended only to set the scene in my author's universe. I shouldn't need the green men again. Though one never knows. :)**

**I don't own Bones. Fox, Temperance Brennan LLP, etc do. Bully for them. However any plot lines you do not recognize and any places are mine.  
**

**Like Monty Python so astutely said in the Holy Grail: "Get on with it!"**

**Right, so...**

**Prologue**

OK, before we get to the heart of our story let's set a few things straight:

Hannah was tragically hit by a meteorite while driving home on the Washington Beltway in rush hour traffic. She didn't feel a thing for those of you who care. After the initial impact of the explosion, which vaporized both her and her car; a UFO rode in on the meteorite's tail and appeared overhead. As soon as it gained the attention of everyone in a ten mile radius, the little green men driving our UFO lower a very large version of the 'Men In Black' memory annihilator and flash the red bulb. Traffic remains bumper to bumper. No one remembers why.

Meanwhile, back at Booth's apartment, a second, smaller UFO craft lands and a commando unit of author's helpers, er, I mean, little green men breaks in through the window by the fire escape. They abscond with every item Hannah had ever owned or bought and rearrange Booth's things the way they were before she moved in. They also vacuum, scrub toilets, empty the dishwasher and repair the broken window on their way out. (What the heck, he's cute.)

Booth, Brennan, Cam, Hodgins, Angela, Sweets, Daisy, Fisher, Clark, Mr. Nigel-Murray, Gordon-Gordon, Andrew, Perotta and Caroline are all celebrating New Year's Eve at Wong Foo's. Unfortunately, due to bad teriyaki and soy sauce, they all wind up with a horrible case of food poisoning. Thankfully, the only effect of the pathogen is to completely and permanently erase all memories having to do with Hannah. Of course, it also turns out to be inexplicably contagious to only those unnamed characters not present who remember Hannah as well.

Zack, (still at the asylum for the criminally insane) is accidentally overdosed on electric shock treatment due to a mop bucket accident and a janitor crashing into and breaking both the safety and shut-off buttons. Amazingly, the chemical electro-pathways in his brain are widened and therefore his ability to reason has become twice as fast as it used to be. Unfortunately, he remembers nothing that Hodgins or Angela has told him about Hannah either.

With the landing of all the little green men, Scully and Mulder show up in DC and waltz through collecting clues. Every clue leads them to Hollywood where they round up a ragtag group of screenwriters for the Fox TV series 'Bones'. Every single one of those writers, while en route to interrogation is then summarily sucked out the sunroof of Mulder's rental car up into the invisible UFO tailing Mulder's car from above. At least every writer except the one writer that wrote Hodgin's line, "You're the one that's leaving." And the other writer that wrote Angela's reply, "You're the one who's not stopping me." Those guys can be spared the anal probes.

Oh, wait, on second thought, they must have both been in the room when some numbskull came up with the idea of writing in Hannah. We spare no one. Anal probes all around! Hooray!

Flash back to all of our mildly sick Medico-Legal team. They all turn to face the camera and yell, "Get on with it!"

And so, with all set back right with the world, and no further adieu, let's begin.

***Mulder and Scully and the X-Files belong to Chris Carter and the Fox network. Thanks for guest starring.

***Men In Black is a Columbia Pictures/Amblin Entertainment production. Thanks for helping us out, fellas.

In all seriousness, this will be a slightly silly story, albeit not as silly as the above. It is several chapters long. I have to post it in chunks because I am a truck driver and I seldom get the chance to access the Internet. So while I would have loved more feedback while writing, it simply wasn't possible. I do quite a bit of screen writing, so it may at times seem heavy on the dialogue, and for that I apologize in advance. It's a hard habit to break.

If you didn't figure it out, in my Author's Universe, Booth and Brennan have just spent months apart. This story opens in the beginning of Season 6. Just completely minus Hannah.

I have been able to read many fantastic stories here as a 'lurker' and haven't been able to review them due to reading them on my phone. I won't blame you if you don't leave a review. I know what it's like to read something and want to say thank you to the author for entertaining me, but simply wasn't able. That being said, thank you for reading. I've tried to keep it in readable chunks of less than 5000 words per chapter. I hope you enjoy it! If you do, I'll go ahead and post the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**If you like this, please let me know and I can update another few chapters around Thanksgiving. They're already written and raring to go. Thanks for reading.**

Chapter One – The Best Laid Plans

Pregnancy can have some strange effects on the female body. Angela was certainly not immune to the physical aspects, her abdomen was swelling with the promise of a new life. A life she and Jack had created together. She caught his sparkling blue eyes and smiled contentedly. Who knew that under the bristly conspiracy theorist was a rock hard body and such a giving, vulnerable heart? She was happy. Hell, she was more than happy. She'd married her true love and they were having a baby.

More and more of late, Angela's thoughts went back to her best friend, Brennan. She had an amazing man waiting in the wings for her. Over the course of six years she'd watched the two of them dance around the subject of dating. She'd advised, cajoled, and pushed. Nothing seemed to work. She sighed softly, looking out the window. If Brennan could only get a taste of what she was too scared to enjoy, that studly FBI guy would blow her mind. This latest seven month hiatus had been the stupidest thing she'd seen either of them do. To be quite frank, she was tired of waiting around for Brennan to be happy. She deserved to be happy and if she wasn't willing to do anything about it, then best friends had a way of stepping in and making things happen. Didn't they?

Was it really so wrong to want Brennan to be as happy as she was with Jack? Of course not. But Brennan was impossible about the whole thing. Sabotage had been slinking around in Angela's mind for months. Having done everything up until this point as unobtrusively as possible, it was time to light the fuse on the rocket to the moon. Whether Brennan wanted it or not. That was what best friends did.

Angela sat across from Hodgins at the Royal Diner, her pregnant hormones had been in full swing today and Jack had been ducking and weaving more than Frazier in his fight with Ali. She poked again at his fries and dipped one in the Italian dressing on top of her salad before munching it down with a look of sheer heaven on her face.

In the mysterious way that women do – more so when they're pregnant – Angela spouted a random thought, "I can't take it anymore!"

Jack froze. She couldn't take it? Take what? What had he done? Watching his wife's face he knew he'd need to think a hell of a lot faster, "Can't take what, honey?" he asked cautiously.

Angela's hand stopped mid-grab for another fry, "Brennan and Booth, Jack. All these years I've stood back and watched them trip over each other trying not to get involved. I can't take it anymore."

Admittedly, Jack's first thought was relief. An unhappy pregnant woman was bad enough, but when she was unhappy with you... whoa! Duck and cover! Then it hit him what she was talking about, "Ang, honey, I think it's best if we just stay out of it. Both of them are our friends. I'd like to keep it that way."

"It's a new year, Jack. It's going to be another year of clueless moping if we don't do anything. Not to mention, "Jack started to shake his head, forming his argument, when she shut him down with a look, "It could be a very celibate year in the Hodgins house."

Jack gulped and his voice cracked slightly, "Celibate?"

Ang knew she had him and smiled between bites, "We just have to give them a nudge, Jack. That's all."

Insert great line break here. :)

Caroline watched as Booth wandered aimlessly back into his office from the conference room like a lost dog. If she had to sit and watch him make those puppy dog eyes at Dr. Brennan in another meeting, she was going to rip her hair out. If he asked her to repeat something else in a pre-trial strategy meeting after mooning over Dr. Brennan one more time, she was convinced it was going to start affecting the outcome if her trials. There was no way that Caroline Julian was going to start losing cases – let alone setting criminals free just because he couldn't get it under control.

Then there was Dr. Brennan. As smitten as Booth was, she was equally clueless. That lady scientist was crazy if she thought men like him dangled around long like low hanging fruit. If she was twenty years younger, she'd give that bone doctor a run for her money. She sighed and shook her head. Who was she kidding?

At first it had been entertaining watching them fight the inevitable. But at this point it had gotten entirely out of hand. Both of them running away from one another had almost cost Dr. Saroyan her job. That was the straw that broke the prosecutor's back. Something had to give. That boy had it so bad for that oblivious Doctor she didn't think there was a cure.

Unless...

Just because Mama Caroline hadn't played matchmaker since she left her family in Louisiana didn't mean she had lost her touch. Reaching the elevator, instead of pushing the L button to go to her Gremlin waiting in the garage, she pressed 15.

When the elevator arrived at the 15th floor she was already debating her choice to use the Deputy Director Hacker. He did have a crush on Dr. Brennan. She could make a persuasive argument, after all she was a prosecutor, and a damned good one at that.

She reached the Deputy Director's office after his secretary had already gone home. The lights were still on in his office. Quickly she checked her looks in the glass and on a whim undid the top button of her blouse. A woman had to use all her ammunition and an older woman like herself knew when to lock and load. She knocked on the door, poking her head in, "Director Hacker?"

Andrew was piling files into his briefcase to go home, "Caroline! What brings you here? I was just on my way out."

She stepped in his cushy office and held the back of one of the two chairs facing his desk. It was showtime. She frowned. "Andrew, I'm worried about Wonder Boy and his Lady Scientist."

"Booth and Dr. Brennan, why? I thought they'd reinstated the liason position efficiently enough after all this business surrounding Dr. Saroyan quite well."

"I don't know if you've looked at the numbers lately, but when they were out of the country my successful prosecution ratio went through the floor. They make us look good, Cher. Very good. Their closing and successful prosecution ratio is off the charts. They make you and I look like superstars. When they're here."

Andrew answered her with a blank, but smiling look. Though he had stopped stuffing his briefcase. At least that was something.

"Insurance, Cher! We can't let them out of our sight again! What if something happens to one of them? Both of them? Neither one of our careers could afford to lose our newly refound security. What if one of them gets killed?"

He smiled indulgently, "Agent Booth is more than capable of taking care of their security."

Caroline placed an impatient hand on her hip, "And what if he's not? He's been more of a super squint than an agent lately. And she doesn't even carry a gun!"

"I know he spends a good deal of his time at the lab with Temperance, but I can assure you..."

"Assure me what, Cher? They're perfect? They know how to react to every situation?"

"Well, no, but..."

"Listen, Cher, if you were smart; and honey, I know you are, I'd keep up better on their training. Our careers depend on it."

"What are you suggesting?"

She continued, trying to make it look like she was thinking out loud, "That's it, Cher! You're a genius! You couldn't tell them though. He's too cocky. He wouldn't play it straight. But we'd have to make sure they weren't in any real danger. We could tell Booth that Dr. Brennan has a stalker."

Almost like a cartoon, she could see a light bulb go on above his head, "Sure! We could use them in the training op we've got coming up next month. I've got a group of green agents that need to do snatch-and-grab training. We could just cook something up to get them set up as the targets."

"Make it high profile. Something in the papers. That way the imaginary stalker could read about it. It would have to be something big enough to make them think it would get his attention. Flush him out."

He was all in at this point, "What about a speaking engagement?"

"No. She does those all the time. If the stalker, "she used her fingers to make quotes in the air, "hasn't bit on any of those, why would he start now? Dr. Brennan is a smart cookie, Andrew. It would have to be something specific to flush him out. Something big but personal. Make it like the stalker's in love with her."

"Tempe is a celebrity. A wedding would make the papers."

Caroline snapped her fingers and waggled a pleased finger at him, "Now we're on to something, Cher. I knew you'd understand, Andrew." Caroline almost felt guilty for steering him so hard. But this was matchmaking Cajun style and playing dirty came with the territory.

The dancing little green men line break goes here. :)

Dr. Lance Sweets sat in his office turning the pages of his report on Booth and Brennan and sighed. The paper that was going to make his career was nothing more than garbage, the whole thing was garbage. He was about to push the entire pile into the trash with a teenage sigh when Daisy pranced in his door and stopped in her tracks, "What's wrong, Lancelot?"

He quickly tried to cover his report, "Patient confidentiality. I can't really talk about it."

She snaked her arms around his shoulders and read the title page to the report, "Lance, I thought you threw that out. You were going to start a new study..."

"Daisy, it's just nothing else is this... well, groundbreaking around here. Sure, there's serial killers and agents that randomly shoot things, but this was totally new ground..."

Daisy nodded knowingly and solemnly, "Clowns."

Lance did a double take and looked at her confused, "How did you know about that?"

She shrugged, "Dr. Brennan told me."

Lance debated with himself for a moment before asking, "Daisy, do you think Dr. Brennan is happy?"

She looked puzzled, "Of course, I mean she has everything a professional woman could want."

She did: money, success in her career and even in writing. If anyone knew there was more to life, Lance, young as he was, did, "But what about her personal life? Don't you think she'd be happier if she had someone to share her successes with?"

Daisy didn't like where he was driving with this conversation, "I don't know, Lance."

Lance wrapped his arms around her and stood, "I mean look at us, Daisy. You were happy when I met you, your career was going great. But aren't you happier now, with us?"

Daisy nodded slowly, afraid to concede.

Lance pushed on, "So using that logic, don't you think Dr. Brennan would be happier with someone in her life. On many levels you two are very much alike. Wouldn't she be happier having someone like you do?"

Ever since being hired back to the Jeffersonian, Daisy was uneasy discussing anything private about Dr. Brennan, "Probably. Why?" Her eyes narrowed before Lance could reply, "Does this have anything to do with your report?"

Lance brushed it into the trash, "What? No. It's just Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan are my friends. Booth admitted to me last year that he's in love with Dr. Brennan. I want to see them as happy as we are."

Daisy frowned, "They're your patients, Lance. You'd be crossing the line. If Dr. Brennan found out, Lance, she's my boss. I could lose my job."

Lance shrugged, "I've been thinking for awhile that I should pass Booth and Dr. Brennan on to another psychologist. We've become friends. That is a conflict of interest. Besides, if _I _do something about it, Dr. Brennan would be able to separate my actions from yours."

She stared at him, softening at his big heart, "This means that much to you, Lancey-bear?"

Lance hugged her tightly, "Wouldn't I be doing the wrong thing if I didn't try to give them the same happiness we have? You know, as a friend?"

It did mean a lot to him, "We could ask them out on a double date, I don't think that would hurt anything."

Lance shook his head, and brushed his finger over her nose, "I don't think they're ready for that yet, Pookie Bear. Not yet. But soon."

Insert dancing llama line break here. :)

Being buzzed through into the visiting area, he couldn't help but notice the starkness of the place. Not many patients were released from this institution and it wasn't hard to see why. The décor blended influences from industrial work areas, maximum security prisons and the most underfunded hospitals he'd ever seen. Simply shameful. When Dr. Sweets had called and mentioned he was coming in to see Dr. Addy, Dr. Wyatt had all but bribed the young psychologist to let him go in his stead. Dr. Addy's case was simply fascinating. He was essentially punishing himself for a flaw in his logic.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason he'd come. Even in his retirement, Gordon still had one last patient to attend to. He couldn't fully concentrate on frothing velvety sauces and creating culinary wonders if he was ridden with guilt for not tying up his last case. It was as obvious as a burned souffle that Agent Booth was in love with Dr. Brennan. It was also equally obvious that she loved him. The fear of relationships between them could curdle cream. They both had different reasons, of course. He knew that the direct approach with either of them would fall flat. Thus, Gordon was enlisting the help of a very unwitting bystander.

Dr. 'Gordon-Gordon' Wyatt took a seat across the steel table from Dr. Zack Addy, "I'm sorry that Dr. Sweets couldn't be here today. He asked me to come by and just check in with you. And, of course, I accepted. I've been hoping to meet you."

Zack nodded, "Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan both speak highly of you. I am pleased you came by, Dr. Wyatt. I can assure you, aside from the accident that occurred earlier this week that I am quite well."

Gordon shook his head and tutted, "Dr. Sweets mentioned that to me. Sad circumstances, dear boy. Sorry to hear about that."

Zack nodded curtly. Gordon-Gordon popped open his briefcase, "I do have some things for you. You still have quite a few friends at the Jeffersonian. Dr. Hodgins asked me to give you this and tell you he'd be by tomorrow." Gordon slid a card across the table.

Zack's gloved hand retrieved the card with difficulty from the table. He studied it closely for all of a a half second, "Tell Hodgins the answer is 2.1359 repeating." He pushed the card back across the table.

Gordon picked it up and stared at the mess of numbers and symbols that were obviously meant as some sort of mathematical problem, "Quite good with numbers are you?"

"Yes. It's a game Hodgins and I play. He provides the equations and tries to find one I can't solve."

He was still so very naïve, interesting. His naivete was almost refreshing after the years in his own practice, "Has he ever succeeded?"

Zack's face remained passive, "No."

"Interesting game. Dr. Hodgins sounds like a good friend," Gordon smiled. "I thought I might bring you a puzzle a well. I find I'm rather stumped at the moment. Your reputation as an impartial observer precedes you. I was hoping you'd take a look at these pictures and wanted to know what you see."

Zack had already played the inkblot test, but the pictures that were pushed across the table weren't shapeless blobs of ink. They were photographs of Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan. He shrugged, "Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth."

Gordon nodded, his countenance revealing nothing, "What else do you see?"

Zack concentrated his laser eyes, "They are standing in the Jeffersonian lab. It's obviously dark. That light doesn't come on during the day. They have a new tech in the lab. That bone saw is not put away properly the way Dr. Brennan likes it."

"What about the people in the picture, what can you tell me about them?"

"Just from the photograph or what I can recite from memory?"

"Just what you can see in the photo, if you please, Dr. Addy."

"They are standing very close to one another. Invading one another's personal space. I would certainly be uncomfortable if someone stood that close to me. Agent Booth has his hand on the small of Dr. Brennan's back. I believe that means they have transcended the bounds of more formal interaction. Dr. Brennan is smiling at Agent Booth." Zack looked up at Gordon-Gordon puzzled, "I could be more precise if I knew what you want me to observe."

"You're doing fine, dear boy. Please continue."

Zack's eyes flashed with confusion, "I am not an expert at human interaction."

In return, Gordon only smiled easily, "But you do have an amazing skill of observation. Go ahead."

"Dr. Brennan never looked at me like that. She didn't look at anyone but Agent Booth that way."

"Interesting. What do you think that look means, Dr. Addy?"

"It is difficult for me to interpret interpersonal body language, Dr. Wyatt."

"Of course, but we all get better at something by exercising it. Let's try another one. What does this photo say about Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth?" He slid another photograph across the table.

This photograph was of a large group of people from the Jeffersonian obviously at a party. Zack was obviously missing. It was relatively recent. In the center of the picture Booth and Brennan looked at each other sharing a secret smile.

"Once again, they are crossing personal boundaries of space that I would not be comfortable with. They seem to be ignoring everyone else in the picture but each other. Dr. Brennan has that same look on her face. Agent Booth is..." Zack quirked his head trying to put the pieces together, "As illogical as it may sound to me, they seem to be sharing a physical attraction? Have they... copulated, Dr. Wyatt?"

"Oh no. Nothing like that."

Pursing his lips, Zack tilted his head, "That seems illogical."

"Why would you say that, Dr. Addy?"

"The proximity of them in each of these photographs combined with the dialated eyes and touch, it would seem they are attracted to one another on a biological level. Agent Booth would qualify as a suitable physical partner for Dr. Brennan. It would only then follow logically that they have copulated."

"Sometimes as an outside observer we can see more than the people that are in the middle of the situation."

"You are stating that I may see something in their relationship that neither of them do? I find that highly improbable. Perhaps they have not participated in coitus because they work together. A conflict of interest would certainly preempt Dr. Brennan. I cannot form a hypothesis on Agent Booth."

"It could indeed. But have you considered love?"

"Love?"

"Certainly, Dr. Addy. It could be that they do not," he cleared his throat, "wish to risk their companionship, their friendship as it were, for a few moments of biological release."

"What would their personal relationship have to do with biological urges?"

"What indeed, Doctor," Gordon smiled, "What indeed?"After a solid minute of puzzled silence from Zack, Gordon-Gordon began gathering his things, "It would seem I may have brought the stumping question this week."

Zack was still distracted, "Yes. It would seem so."

Insert a line of corpses doing the Macarena here. :)

Cam tipped back in her desk chair and sighed. Another day, another three sets of remains on the platform. She watched four of Brennan's interns scurry about the platform until Booth ushered Dr. Brennan out the door to question suspects. Unaware they were being observed, once the coast was clear, the activity slowed and she heard very distinct snatches of conversation:

Clark: "We are not going to talk about this."

Mr. Nigel Murray: "Did you know that people who work together in a common field are fourteen times more likely to have sex?"

Wendell: "He'd have to be stupid not to tap that."

Fisher: "Booth is many things, but stupid he ain't."

Mr. Nigel-Murray: "How about a friendly wager?"

Wendell: "Like whether or not Booth and Dr. Brennan..."

Mr. Nigel-Murray: "Of course."

Clark: "Out of all you crazy people in this lab, I know I can count on Dr. Brennan to remain professional. She wouldn't..."

Fisher: "I wouldn't be so sure, Clark."

Cam appeared silently like smoke, "This doesn't sound work related, gentlemen. It sounded like you were about to start a betting pool based off Dr. Brennan's personal life." All four of them hustled around cleaning up and avoided her eyes like the plague. Cam bent over a one of the cadavers for a moment her mind racing.

She knew Booth had run away last year. It would have taken a woman much more obtuse than Cam not to have seen that. Although she didn't know Dr. Brennan as well, she would bet this week's pay that was the same reason she took off for Indonesia. Watching their goodbye in the airport had been heartbreaking, especially after last year when she and Seeley had tossed back a few drinks. He'd confessed his feelings for Dr. Brennan completely. Cam was much more Seeley's friend than his ex-girlfriend. Sure, the sex had been good, but there weren't any fireworks and they both knew it. Against the odds, it had managed to make them stronger friends. It really hurt to watch him struggling with this. She certainly didn't fully understand what he saw in Dr. Brennan. Cam was a confident enough friend to understand that wasn't her decision to make.

Although she still didn't feel like she knew Dr. Brennan as well as she could, the anthropologist had come running when Cam was truly in trouble. Seeley would be good for her, fireworks or no. She owed them both for saving her career. Seeley wanted it and that was good enough for her.

"Oh, and gentlemen? About the office pool? I'm in." They all stopped and stared. Clark dropped his tray with a crash.

This is where a line of kissing lips make up the line break. :)

Rebecca walked Parker down the hall just until she saw Hank, "Seeley will be here in an hour to pick him up, Hank." She looked down at her son, "Parker be good for Pops and Dad will bring you home on Sunday night."

Parker nodded and let his mom kiss him goodbye. He wiped it off. He was getting too old for that stuff. He grabbed his backpack and ran to his great grandfather's waiting hug.

Hank waved at Rebecca then hugged his great grandson again, "I know you're big for this, but I'm excited. It's not often we get man-to-man time without your Dad." He finished the sentiment with s manly punch on the shoulder.

They stowed Parker's bag in Hank's room and went to the common room, "So what do you know, Parks? How's things?"

Parker shrugged half-heartedly, "Alright, I guess."

"Just alright? What's going on? Here, let me get you some orange juice from Nurse Godzilla over there and we can talk about it." Hank winked and retrieved the juice.

Parker just played with his glass, "There's this girl, Pops..."

Hank chuckled, "Already with the girls, Park? You chasing skirts already?"

Parker's eyes shot up in alarm, "Ew! No! She chased me on the playground today. I thought we were just playing tag, but when she caught me, she kissed me."

Hank suffocated a giggle with a cough and put on his straight face, "Serious stuff, Park. Think she gave you the cooties? We better check. Where'd she kiss you?"

Parker pointed sullenly to his cheek. Hank put on his glasses and rubbed it with his thumb, "Looks like you may have escaped this time."

Parker had a sudden panicked thought, "Oh gosh, Pops what about Dad?"

"What about him?"

"He kisses girls, I bet he's got the cooties!"

"Nope, he kisses women. He's safe. Women don't have the cooties. They grow out of them."

"I guess I shouldn't worry so much. Dad doesn't kiss anyone any more. All he does is hang out with Doctor Bones and she's a woman but she doesn't really count."

"Now why doesn't Tempe count, Parks? I thought you liked her?"

"Bones? Bones is the best! He says she's his friend. I know she's cool and all, but I still think it's a little weird that my dad has a woman for a best friend."

"Ever think maybe your dad would like Bones for a girlfriend and maybe that's why he spends so much time with her?"

"That would be cool! But Pops if Dad wants Bones to be his girlfriend, why isn't she?"

"I don't know, Parks. But I'm with you." Hank knew he wasn't going to be around forever. In fact, he wanted to see this chasing around the bush settle into a happily-ever-after before he bought the farm. It topped his bucket list. And if he wanted something done, Hank Booth knew he'd damn well have to do it himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy catapulting cows! Thanks for the great feedback and the story alerts! I really wanted to get this posted yesterday but the wireless on our poor beat up old laptop gave up the ghost. Three cheers for the hubby who literally went the extra miles and got me another adapter while we are under load on our way to Denver. I knew there was a reason I married this guy, other than a cute butt. :) Over 13k words this time broken into four new chaps! All mistakes and typos are mine.  
**

_Chapter Two: Blindside and a Black Hat_

Angela and Jack had gone through everyone they knew that was still single. It had to be just right. Any red blooded man throwing himself at Brennan would most definitely get a rise out of Booth. He'd been known to run background checks and act downright immature around them. They had to bump his reactions up a notch or three. They had finally settled on 'Grant the grabber' fairly sure his pawing of Brennan in public would end up sending Booth into apoplectic fits. Jack wasn't sure Grant deserved the pummeling he'd get if he pressed Dr. B into a corner or grabbed her ass in front of Booth, but they both agreed Grant and the agent had enough similarities to catch Brennan's eye.

Jack had put most of his input into picking someone for Booth. The agent had shown a weakness for blondes ages ago when he was still dating. Marcy was smart and sexy, young and a little on the buxom side of the scale. She dressed revealingly enough. She might even be able to hold her own in a scientific discussion with Dr. B. There wasn't a big pool of candidates to pick from. They had agreed that no matter who they chose, they were unlikely to turn Booth's head. They were banking on Grant to tip the scale.

"You think they're actually gonna show?" Jack whispered to Angela smiling behind his drink at the other dinner guest across the table. A very single and available dinner guest.

"I don't see why not," Angela whispered back from behind her menu, "I didn't tell them."

Jack choked on his water, sputtering, "You didn't tell them?"

Angela smiled sweetly patting her husband's back to help him stop coughing, "The gloves are off, Jack."

Booth ushered Brennan through the restaurant, his hand possessively on the small of her back as they trailed after the waiter. He was feeling decidedly under dressed in a sport coat and slacks. This place was a little swanky for Booth's taste: two white linen tablecloths on every table, all the waiters trussed up like penguins and enough candles to start a prayer vigil for the _Titanic_.

Brennan hesitated slightly as she caught sight of the extra dinner guest, "Who's that, Booth?"

Booth shrugged, "Beats me. All Angela said was we were going to try out this great new place she found and to wear a jacket."

Brennan frowned slightly and fidgeted with her hair, "If I would have known it was going to be a social gathering I would have taken more time with my appearance."

He squeezed both her shoulders from behind, "You look great, Bones. You always look great."

Angela spotted them and waved. Jack stood as Brennan approached, as did the unmet man. An attractive looking man, the agent noted unhappily. Booth frowned as he pulled out a chair for Bones between his empty one and the strange guy.

She raised an eyebrow – he saw it – but she graciously accepted the chair without a word. In eyebrow-ese he knew she just told him he'd surely pay for it later. He'd pay for it later, right now he was staking his claim in front of Mr. Perfect.

He slid into a chair as Brennan apologized, "Sorry we're late. Booth and I were going over the strangulation marks on the hyoid bone of..."

Angela laid a hand on her arm quickly, "That's OK, Sweetie. We've got someone we'd like you to meet. Dr. Temperance Brennan this is Grant Shields. He's a professional..."

Brennan sized him up through his well fitting suit, "Hockey player. Nice to meet you Mr. Shields."

Grant's wavy light brown hair framed a square jaw with good facial structure and his orbits held two very clear bright green eyes. His smile was a bit too perfect as he laughed and took her hand and held it a bit too long, looking between Angela and Brennan, "How'd she... How'd you do that?"

Jack laughed, "Dr. Brennan is a forensic anthropologist. Knowing your penchant for smart, beautiful women I thought an introduction was in order." He turned to Brennan, "Every lady scientist needs a Grant, Dr. Brennan."

"Of course. Without funding..." She stopped talking abruptly and Jack waited patiently for her to get the pun, "Oh, Dr. Hodgins! You were referring to Mr. Shields." She smiled, pleased with herself that she had gotten the joke. She turned to Booth, beaming. He smiled wanly in reply.

Grant leaned closer into the table and cleared his throat softly, "Actually, it's Doctor Shields. Don't let the cat out of the bag." He placed a finger over his lips as his eyes lit playfully, "And Jack, I owe you big for this introduction."

Brennan was confused, "You have bagged a cat? Booth?"

Booth patted her arm and whispered, "It means not to tell anyone, Bones. It's a secret." Barging in to the overt flirtation, Booth finished placing the napkin on his lap and snapped his fingers, "Wait a minute! I know you! You play for the Flyers!" He extended his hand and they shook heartily, "Jack, you never told me you knew _the_ Grant Shields."

Jack shrugged, "We went to school together. I don't think of him as _the_ anything."

Brennan finished a sip of water, "You went to MIT?"

Grant followed the water down that long, creamy throat, then had the decency to blush, "Did my doctorate work there."

"So you're a doctor of..." An eyebrow raised delicately, appraising him.

"Geology, like Jack. Of course, he had to show me up and get a few more after," he chuckled.

Brennan was intrigued, "And you play hockey because..."

He smiled broadly including the men in his sweep of the table, "Must be the rush of throwing the other guy into the glass." The men spontaneously toasted that answer. Angela just rolled her eyes at Brennan.

Booth frowned again to himself briefly, he wasn't sure he was liking the implications here. He didn't care if the guy was _the _Grant Shields. He didn't like the way he was undressing Bones with his eyes. Down boy!

Angela interrupted his thoughts, "Oh, here she is!" She stood to kiss both cheeks of a stunning, if slightly bookish blonde, "I was worried about you!"

"Sorry, traffic was a bear on the George Washington bridge," the blonde whispered to Angela.

As the guys stood, Angela threw an affectionate arm over her shoulders, "Everyone, this is Dr. Marcy Covington. She's a textiles expert and curator at the Smithsonian."

Greetings were exchanged as recognition flashed across Brennan's face, "You published a paper last fall about dating Chinese burial shrouds in _Archeology Magazine_."

Marcy took her chair smiling coyly, basking in the recognition, "Guilty as charged."

Brennan poked her hand under Booth's nose to introduce herself, "It was very accurate work. An interesting read. A pleasure to meet you, I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan. I'm the head of forensic anthropology at the Jeffersonian."

Marcy returned the professional complement, "I read your white paper on the Maluku Islands dig. Too bad the bones were too damaged to provide solid evidence to your theory on the angle evolution of the pelvic vertebrae. That would have really made some waves."

Angela jumped between them before she lost them to shop talk, "Marcy, I'd like you to meet our very good friend Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI."

Marcy drank him in like a cool glass of water as she lightly shook his hand, "My pleasure." Inhibited or not, she would have sucked him up with a straw.

As dinner arrived, much to Angela's chagrin and contrary to the seating arrangements she'd made, Booth and Grant were heavily in a conversation over slap-shots and their preferences in skate manufacturers while Brennan and Marcy were leaning in, out and around Booth holding a discussion about God-only-knew-what scientific minutiae.

Soft jazz piano began tinkling near the dimly-lit dance floor. Angela nearly fainted with relief as she dropped a suggestion like a rock on Grant's head, "I'm sure Bren would love to dance. Jazz is her favorite."

Hearing her name, Brennan abruptly stopped talking. Grant took the opportunity during Booth's stunned silence to extend his hand over the table, "It would be an honor. Tempe, would you do me the pleasure?"

Brennan smiled softly, "Thank you. I will."

If his hands got anywhere near where his eyes had been wandering earlier, Booth was going to give him a proctology exam through his face. Calculating carefully, Booth threw one of his patented thousand watt smiles at Marcy, "May I?"

Marcy giggled nervously before placing her napkin on the table and took his hand. They reached the dance floor and Booth pulled her in tight.

Jack held up his drink looking like he was toasting Booth on the way to the dance floor as he muttered to his wife, "This is _so_ not working."

Angela frowned slightly as she leaned in to kiss Jack's ear, "Grant's definitely interested. So's Marcy. Now all we have to do is let jealousy work its magic."

"That's if Booth doesn't pulverize Grant first," he snuck a kiss at his wife's giggling throat.

Out on the dance floor, Grant had pulled Brennan into an ears to ankles body hug as they swayed to the music. He even pretended not to feel the repeated stomps on his feet. He gave up and let her lead as he snaked a hand from her waist to the top of her hip. He was sliding it lower, to Brennan's backside as Booth cut in, swapping partners.

_Insert dancing black stocking cap line break here. :)_

Sweets sat in his chair across from the treatment couch in his office, hand folded neatly in his lap. Booth and Dr. Brennan sat facing him from that same couch waiting expectantly. After a full minute of silence Booth checked his watch, "Sweets if all we're gonna do here is blink at each other, Bones and I have a bad guy to catch. So..." He grabbed his partner's hand and headed for the door.

"I'm sorry guys. This is just," Sweets paused for effect, "hard for me." Booth and Dr. Brennan exchanged a puzzled glance and sat back down.

Booth slid his elbows to rest forward on his knees, "What's up, Sweets?"

Dr. Brennan was instantly concerned, "It would probably be best if you told us. You obviously have a problem. We can help formulate a solution."

Booth motioned to the area in Sweets's office, "This is a safe zone, remember? We're your friends. Out with it."

Sweets ran a hand roughly through his hair trying to decide how to play it. He sighed, "And see, that's the problem."

Dr. Brennan squinted her eyes like she always did when she was trying to grasp something, "I don't understand. The problem is that you have friends?" She looked to Booth for clarification, but he only shrugged.

Sweets jumped out of his chair and began pacing, "No, Dr. Brennan. It's you guys. See, we _are_ friends; and don't get me wrong, I'm very happy we are. But I think our friendship is beginning to be a problem."

Booth frowned, "Problem how?"

He got an elbow to the ribs from Bones, "I think he's alluding to a conflict of interest, Booth."

Lance waved a hand in the air, "Exactly. I mean you guys don't take me seriously. You ignore our appointments. You don't take my suggestions or advice like you would from someone who has... who is older and has more professional objectivity."

Booth had the good manners to look sheepish, "That's not you, Sweets. That's not us being friends. Bones and I really don't believe in all this head-shrinking mumbo-jumbo. That's all." He widened his eyes intently at Bones, pleading for help.

She nodded, "Dr. Sweets, you're well aware of my thoughts on the soft science of..."

Sweets held up his hand to stop them, "But that's not the biggest issue. I just don't feel I have the objectivity I need to continue your therapy. I know you too well. I'm too invested in your personal successes to think clearly and impartially when it comes to the two of you."

Booth stood and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from pacing. He was getting dizzy just watching, "That's why we like you."

Sweets shook his head sadly, "It's time, guys. I'm handing your case off to another psychologist."

It was Brennan's turn to stand, but by now she was clearly alarmed, they both were. She exchanged on of their 'partner looks' at Booth as they both stated firmly and simultaneously, "We won't go."

Sweets pulled away from Booth and flopped back in his chair, defeated. "I'm flattered. Really I am. But you have to go. Doctor Ashcroft is a very good therapist." Both partners were shaking their heads as he continued, "It's not easy for me either, you guys. Just do it for me. Please." Sweets let that statement hang pitifully between them.

Dr. Brennan eventually sighed, "Dr. Sweets, we understand you're trying to maintain your professional ethics. We understand. Don't we, Booth?" She nudged Booth and he grumblingly agreed. She leveled her eyes at Sweets with a firm nod, "We'll go." Grabbing Booth's arm, she towed him to the door.

As Booth reached the threshold behind Dr. Brennan he turned back and whispered dangerously, "This isn't over, Sweets."

The door closed behind them and after a tense moment as he held his pose of remorse in case they returned, he let out a pent up breath. He jumped to his feet and giggled all the way to his desk. He yanked open the bottom left drawer and took out a black stocking watch cap. Pulling it over his head he chuckled, "You're right about that, Booth. It's not over until Adventure Man says it's over."

**Oh, yeah baby, there's more...on to chapter four.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Our scene with Sweets starts out a little melancholy, but I really didn't want to take him too far out of context. He has his reasons for wanting to see Brennan happy, and they cut pretty close to his little ducky heart. Don't worry, Adventure Man has a plan! If you see movie references, yes, they're on purpose and will be credited at the end of the chapter.**

_Chapter Three: Revenge of the Squinterns_

Cam grabbed a manilla envelope from the nearest workstation and dumped the papers out, "Two hundred dollars. Each."

The Squinterns blinked then balked as a group, "Two hundred?"

Cam smiled, "This has been going on for years. Whoever gets those two together deserves to win a hell of a lot of money."

Wendall smiled, "I'm in. But I have to wait until I get paid Friday. What are the terms?"

Cam passed around pieces of paper, "If you're game, write an IOU out and put it in the envelope. As for the terms, it has to be easy to see who's won. So we each will get a turn. We'll draw order randomly. We'll have to wait a week or so between turns to gauge the response. You can team up or work individually. But if you team up, you have to split the pot."

Angela and Hodgins came in returning from lunch, "What's going on?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray stepped forward hands in his pockets and leaned down conspiratorially, "Office pool. Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan. Who ever gets them together wins."

Angela and Hodgins smiled at one another, and laughed, "Office pool! We're in!"

Stephanie, Clark's girlfriend, had walked in on Cam explaining her terms. She stood at the bottom of the secure platform, "An office pool? What are you betting on?"

Clark nearly ran down the steps in his haste to leave. Cam smiled at Steph, "We're going to sabotage Booth and Dr. Brennan. Whoever can get them together gets the pool."

Peeling a tugging Clark off her arm, wide-eyed, Steph giggled, "You mean that ship _still_ hasn't sailed yet?"

Cam was stuffing IOUs in the envelope and smiling, "Nope."

Steph pulled Clark into her line of vision, "How much are you in for?"

Clark sputtered, "What? I'm not..."

She smiled at him, "Of course you are." She turned to Cam, "How much to get in?"

Cam raised her eyebrows and replied slowly as she watched Clark squirm, "Two hundred."

Steph dug in her purse, "He's in. Aren't you, Clark?"

_Insert dancing pipe wrenches line break here :)_

Clark and Fisher trudged through the sewer, their flashlights lancing erratic beams of light into the pitch black. Wading through the waist deep muck in hip boots and elbow length industrial rubber gloves, Clark stopped suddenly and stomped his foot with a splash, "Man I don't even know what I'm doing here. This is crazy, you know that? Crazy!"

"You're down here," Fisher replied evenly, walking nonchalantly past Clark's temper tantrum, "because your law professor girlfriend threatened to put a restraining order on your nookie."

Clark shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe Dr. Saroyan got her involved."

"She's hot, by the way."

"Who? Dr. Saroyan?"

"Your girlfriend."

"Just drop it, Fisher!" Clark glowered for ten more yards, struggling to breathe without retching in the stench.

Fisher took in a huge lungful of sewer reek, "Smell that?"

Just watching him Clark threw up a little in his mouth, "The sewage?"

Fisher stopped and turned to face him, "_That_ is the smell of money. All the money from the office pool if everything goes according to plan. A grand each buys a lot of Febreeze, my friend," He slapped Clark on the shoulder, "Now com'on. The pipe is right over here."

Clark slogged along behind, "You sure about this? I mean, how do you know it's even going to work?"

"I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express last night," Fisher deadpanned. If Clark could have killed him with a look, this would have been the one, "Relax! My uncle's a plumber." He checked a printed diagram of the pipes surrounding them and tapped the end of his flashlight to the right of a large valve wheel, "Right here."

Clark was losing his nerve. To hell with sex, "What if we get caught? I mean we're flooding the guy's apartment. Booth will..."

"Just. Hit. It."

Clark shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut and using the huge wrench he'd dragged with them slammed into the pipe. Fisher tried the valve wrench. Nothing. Not even a wiggle.

Fisher sighed dramatically, "Don't be such a girl! Over your head! This is quarter inch steel on an arch and the valve is rusty. Swing it like you mean it."

Clark spread his feet and hesitated, "How much is in the pool again?"

"One thousand four hundred dollars."

"And how hot is my girlfriend?"

Fisher just growled suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

Clark sighed dramatically, "OK. Here goes," Clark swung the forty pound wrench over his head and brought it down on the pipe like Thor's hammer. A deafening clang and the wrench began to turn. After a few turns the pipe groaned and rumbled ominously. Fisher grabbed Clark by the collar and waddled as fast as he could back down the sewer line.

Who was Clark kidding? He already missed sex. This 'no nookie until Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth got it on like animals on the Discovery Channel' shit was for the birds, "This better work, Fisher."

Fisher just sloshed on ahead, "Now for part B."

Clark struggled to catch up, "You never said anything about a part B!"

_Insert dancing hockey stick line break here. :)_

Brennan sat at the bar sipping her wine, she didn't really want to be here. Grant had definitely misconstrued why she'd agreed to meet him for a drink tonight. Parker's birthday was coming up and Brennan had a plan. She'd already managed the pair of tickets to the game, she just needed Grant's help to have the little boy meet the team.

Brennan's phone rang as she sat at the bar with Grant. She gave him an apologetic look and picked up, "Brennan."

"_Bones? I need help."_

She plugged an ear in the noisy bar to hear better, "Booth? What's wrong?"

"_I just got home and my apartment is flooded. There's water everywhere! Where are you? I can barely hear you."_

"I'm at a bar. Do you have any fans to dry things out? I have one in my guest room closet you can borrow."

"_A bar? What are you doing at a bar? Fans won't cut it. We're talking more like hip boots. Wait, are you with Grant?"_

"Yes. Booth, what are you going to do?"

"_Why are you out with him? I thought you hated hockey. Some of my clothes are dry I guess I'll go get a hotel."_

"He's a doctor as well as a hockey player. That makes no sense. You have a key to my apartment and I have a guest room."

"_I don't wanna intrude, Bones. I mean, what if you want to bring Grant back to your place?"_

Brennan didn't understand why he was so upset. But the implication made her bristle automatically, "I can assure you that won't..."

"_I mean you're gonna want your privacy, right? I'll just get a..."_

She was brooking no argument, "You'll do nothing of the sort. I'm coming to get you."

Brennan gave Grant an apologetic look after hanging up, "I have to go."

Grant didn't miss much and traced his finger lightly down her arm, "He has a key to your place already. We could just go back to my hotel."

Brennan shook her head, "His apartment is flooded. He's going to need help carrying his things."

He smirked slightly, grabbing her chin and leaning in for a light kiss, "Sure I can't change your mind?"

Brennan pulled away before he landed it, missing his clear frown at the rebuff. Her mind was already across town, "I have to go." She slid off her stool and hustled out without a backward glance.

_Insert pair of skeletons doing the tango line break here. :)_

Cam knocked on Dr. Brennan's office door, "Good morning." As she entered she saw Booth had files spread all over the coffee table in front of him. Dr. Brennan was hunched behind her computer. They both looked bleary eyed and disheveled. "Everything all right?"

Dr. Brennan looked up from her email, "Booth's apartment flooded last night. We were up most of the night salvaging what we could and taking it to my house."

Cam's brows knit together briefly and she looked nervously out the door and back, "That's terrible, Seeley. What happened? Are you getting everything dried out OK?"

"I don't know. When I got home last night every faucet in the house was going crazy. I couldn't shut them off."

"High water pressure, Booth. I told you. That was the reason only the top floor flooded." Brennan chimed in.

"Well whatever, the clean up guys were there this morning when I went to check. They said it'll be a week or two until it's completely dry and then the landlord said he's gonna have to replace walls and carpet."

Cam's eyebrow shot skyward, "That'll take months. And you're going to stay with Dr. Brennan?"

"Yeah. Bones was nice enough to give me her guest room."

"That was nice of you, Dr. Brennan." Cam smiled back at the scientist, only to find she'd buried herself back in her email. "I bet you could both use some coffee. I'll send one of the interns." And she had a good idea exactly who as she retreated to the catwalk above the platform. They obviously needed to discuss collateral damage. "Fisher!"

_Insert chocolate covered magic pills line break here. :)_

One Week Later...

Three drinks was Lance Sweets' limit. But Adventure Man knew how to drink. He even ate the pound of butter required for lining his stomach without retching. Now that was a superhero.

It had taken Sweets exactly seven tries to get Booth to meet at the Founding Fathers. Sweets was wearing a heavy Navy pea coat and a black stocking cap pulled over his dark curls. Booth strode in, dripping from the February sleet and plopped across the table from Sweets, a scowl etched into his face. Sweets signaled the waitress with his hand, never looking away from his friend, "Something wrong, Agent Booth?"

"No." The waitress appeared and took his order, scurrying off to get his beer. "Yes." Booth scrubbed his face with his hand, "Look, just never mind."

The waitress placed the beer in front of Booth. He pulled out his wallet, but Sweets waved him away, "I started a tab, don't worry about it." He watched as Booth took a long, healthy pull and then another, "You know, I asked you here because you're my friend, Seeley."

Booth rolled his eyes at the use of his first name, "Whoa, Sweets. Not even Bones calls me Seeley."

"Of course. I'm sorry. Ah... Booth. But I can tell something's bothering you."

Booth's phone rang deep in his coat pocket. He ignored it. No, that wasn't correct. He pointedly ignored it. "Don't you, um, wanna get that, Booth?"

Booth took the final pull from his beer and signaled the waitress for another. "No."

"But what if it's Dr. Brennan? I mean, it could be..."

"It's not."It had been a bad idea to come. Booth didn't need this.

"How do you know that without looking?"

"It's a girl, Sweets. Happy?"

"You have a woman calling you and you're not picking up?" Lance wiped the foam from his top lip.

Sighing Booth knew he wasn't getting out of the third degree, "Look, it wasn't my idea. Angela and Hodgins set us up."

"Us?"

"Me and Bones. They asked us out to dinner and blind-sided us with blind dates, OK?"

Sweets had the good sense to wince, "Ow. Not cool."

"No." He finished his second beer and called for a third, "Not cool."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I'll tell you one thing I'm not gonna do: I'm not gonna pick up the phone."

"So, uh, what's the matter with her? Is she not very pretty?"

"What do you mean what's the... No! No, she was fine. Just fine."

"But...?" Sweets drew out the question as Booth drained his glass.

"Sweets, I thought I didn't have to answer your stupid questions any more."

Sweets looked hurt, "It's just that I'm not your doctor anymore, so I thought..."

Booth hailed another beer, snapping, "You thought what?"

Sweets studied the bottom of his glass very closely and mumbled, "I thought we could be friends."

Booth let out a guilty sigh, "You know what? You're right, Sweets. You're absolutely right. After I settle one little thing then I would be glad to be friends with you."

"Settle what?"

"I should be at home right now watching movies with Bones and cuddling up on the couch trying to talk her into marrying me. But I'm not. I'm in a bar with you and Bones is out with Grant Shields for the second time this week. You know why that is, little man?"

Sweets was shocked, "Grant Shields? _The_ Grant Shields? Wow."

Booth downed half of another beer. The waitress was wising up and set a pitcher on the table. Booth topped off his glass immediately, "It's because I listened to _you_! You said I was a gambler. You said break the stalemate. Well, I told her. And we wound up on opposite sides of the planet!"

Sweets topped off his own beer, "What did you tell her, Booth?"

Booth was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, "I told her I wanted to give us a shot. Just like you said. I told her and she said no." Misery was written all over his face.

"You know what? You're right." Sweets pushed the glasses and the pitcher out from between them, pointing to his chin and wincing a bit, "I've never been in a bar fight, but I know I deserve this one. I blew it. Hit me. I deserve it."

That definitely got Booth's attention, "What? No. I don't hit kids."

Sweets was standing and getting louder, "She's worth it, Booth. Dr. Brennan is so worth it. I wouldn't blame you a bit. Go on! Hit me!" He shut his eyes and jutted out his chin. People were starting to stare.

Booth grabbed his arm as Sweets flinched at the contact and pulled him back down in his chair, "I am _not_ going to hit you. You're twelve."

Sweets sagged and chugged his beer in misery, too. "You know, Booth. I never told you why I asked so many questions about you and Dr. Brennan. We're friends now. I can divulge some of that information without worrying about patient confidentiality."

Booth topped up both glasses and sat stoically.

Sweets traced the water circles on the table with his glass nervously, "Being her psychologist, I needed to know everything I could. With both of you not cooperating in our sessions, I needed more information. I pulled her child services file."

Booth's glass stopped halfway to his lips and glared at his blatant invasion of Bones's privacy.

"It was before I really knew you or Dr. Brennan. I saw her file. I saw what she went through. I even," he swigged his beer and wiggled the empty at Booth, "I went so far as to cross reference the foster parents' names with known offenders. Known abusers." A tear was climbing into the corner of his eye, but it was overshadowed by the pain that crawled across his face, "I... I know what it's like to live that life, Booth. And when I saw the two of you together... I just wanted her to be happy and I thought you were the one person that could make that happen. I'm sorry I pushed. I was wrong."

Booth thought about the scars that Bones had told him about on Sweets' back and winced. The kid, annoying as he might be, was just looking out for her. He put down his beer and sighed.

Sweets poured another, "I'm sorry, Booth."

"I am _that_ guy. I'll figure it out, Sweets."

Adventure Man knew it was time to stop pushing, "I know you will. You always do."

They drank another beer in loosening silence. The both removed their jackets and unbuttoned their collars. They rolled up their shirtsleeves on the second round and decided a game of cricket darts was called for. As they tossed the darts and tallied the score, Adventure Man drowned the plant in the corner with his beer when Booth wasn't looking. Three pitchers later after the bartender had confiscated both sets of car keys Sweets called a cab, "Com'on Booth. I'm going to help you. Since we know that psychology really hasn't helped with your situation with Dr. Brennan, I know where we can go for answers."

Booth had no idea Sweets could hold his alcohol so well. He was still raring to go and Booth was getting a bit bleary-eyed. He watched as the kid payed the tab and pulled out his own wallet, leaving a tip for the waitress. They both piled into a waiting taxi, "Where are you taking me, Sweets? Out with it!" A smile that Booth had never seen before lit up Sweets's face. Turns out Sweets wasn't the anal retentive little Freud he thought he was. Curiouser and curiouser.

Sweets called out an address to the driver and said cryptically, "I hear she's very good."

Booth frowned with concentration, "I have women calling _me, _Sweets! I don't need a prostitute!"

Sweets just laughed and clapped his shoulder, "Of course not! Guy like you? Don't be ridiculous!"

The buildings were blurring by just a bit too fast to make it comfortable on drunken eyes. "And no damned blind dates!" Booth was slurring now. Why wouldn't the cab driver's head hold still? And why wasn't the little pipsqueak drunk?

"Booth, I would never do that to you without asking first. I'm your friend. You have to trust me."

They climbed out of the cab in front of a fortune teller's shop. Booth squinted as he read the sign, trying to make it stop moving. Once he succeeded, he tried spinning on his heel to pour himself back in the cab, "Oh no. Nonono. No." The cab roared away into the night before Booth could stagger back to it.

"She's not gonna make you do anything you don't want to do. Just listen. Maybe she'll say something that'll help. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right, Booth?" Sweets spun him back around by the elbow and shoved him through the front door.

The smell of incense didn't greet them; it assaulted them. The threadbare red carpet and draped faded fabric hung from every imaginable surface hid the walls and the windows. An ancient crone hobbled through the beads hanging in the doorway and eyed them suspiciously, "What do you want?"

Sweets pushed Booth into a chair at a table with two phones on it and sat himself, "My friend would like his fortune read."

One of her eyes was clouded with a cataract, the other sized up Booth, "Of course he doesn't. Otherwise you wouldn't have to get him blind drunk before bringing him here." She pointed to the door with a gnarled finger, "Out. We're closed."

From behind the beads an elderly man called in a gravelly voice, "Who is it?"

The crone started back to the back room, "Nobody. Just some drunk guy wanting his fortune read."

The beads clattered noisily as he rushed with an arthritic gate into the room. He spotted Sweets, "Don't worry about it. Of course she'll do it."

The crone continued hobbling to the swinging beads, "No, I won't."

The elderly man grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around as she fought him. He stage whispered at Sweets, "It's that Miss Cleo's Psychic Friends Network. She hasn't been the same since she got fired."

The crone wrenched her arm away as they got closer and screeched, "I told you never to speak that name in my house!"

The old man began chasing her around the room while she held her hands over her ears, "Cleo! CleoCleoCleo!"

Sweets watched with distress. If they didn't hurry up Booth was going to remember his drunken way to the door. He opened his wallet and laid a goodly sum on the table. "Will that cover it?"

The old man was still huffing after the crone, "Tell her why you're here."

Sweets rose and easily caught up with the crone, "His true love." He motioned to Booth slumped in the chair.

The old man cackled in triumph, "You hear that? There was never a more noble cause than true love! Look at that schmuck Marta, he's miserable. You can't turn them away now!" Turning back to Sweets he hissed, "Tell her how much you just put on the table!"

Sweets raised his voice near the crone's ear, "One hundred dollars!"

The crone froze in her tracks, "Never in my life have I worked for so little! You insult me!"

Sweets was panicking, digging through his wallet, but knowing the bar tab and taxi had cleaned him out. The old man gently took her arm, "But it's for true love, Marta. True love."

Begrudgingly, Marta crossed to the table and held up each bill, one at a time to her good eye. Sighing, she settled on her chair and picked up the receiver closest to her, "But only because it's for true love. The phone line concentrates the spirits." The old man nodded enthusiastically.

Sweets looked over to watch Booth staring at the woman's clouded eye with an uneasy look on his face. He nudged him, "Booth, pick up the phone."

"I don't believe in this stuff, Sweets. This hocus-pocus."

The old crone fisted both her hands in anger and banged one with startling force on the table, "Seeley Booth! You pick up that phone right now!"

Booth snapped to face Sweets. Sweets held up his hands and shook his head innocently. The crone stuffed the phone into Booth's shocked hand. Booth froze with drunken fear. Marta placed a bowl of coarse salt in front of her and began stirring it with yellowed finger nails. "Yes, yes. It's all here. Bold. Fearless. Lionhearted. Stubborn. Something about..." she pulled the handset away from her ear in disbelief, "Clowns? That mean anything to you, Booth?" Booth nodded, slack-jawed. "And a woman!" Her words softened, "she is breaking your heart, isn't she? Whadd'ya know he really does have a true love."

There was enough alcohol in the universe to make him talk about how he felt about Bones. Booth began putting his phone down and slurred, "OK, that's enough. We're done."

But the crone wasn't so easily beaten. She stirred the salt hypnotically. "She loves you, you know."

Booth stopped the receiver halfway to the cradle, "She does?"

"Oh yes. But something isn't clear for her. There is fear here. There is confusion. There is loneliness. But she is a good woman. A good enough woman."

"Now hold it one minute! Bones is the best." Booth half-stood. Sweets eased him back down into the chair.

"Yes. The best for you. But, Seeley Booth, are you the best for her, hmm?"

"What is that supposed to mean? I've killed to protect her! I've almost died for her!"

"Who, I wonder, are you convincing? Me?" She shook her mangled mane of gray hair, "Him?" She pointed at Sweets. Again she shook her head before pointing a finger rudely at his chest, "You! That's who."

The old crone's eye softened, "She is the one. But you knew this. You tried. But! You blew it! You will always love her. None will compare if you don't."

As if on cue Booth's phone rang. He reached in his pocket without taking his eyes from Marta and sent it to voice mail by pressing a button, "So what do I do?"

"She's afraid. Been hurt so much in her life it is hard for her to trust. Yet she does trust you. That's the problem."

Booth scrunched his face, "It's a problem that she trusts me?"

Nodding vehemently, the old crone continued to stare into the dish of salt. "You have become too important to her to risk losing you."

"She's not gonna lose me!" Booth's eyes begged Marta. When she wouldn't meet his eyes, he shot the same look at Sweets. Sweets shook his head in commiseration.

She ignored them, "But it is only fear. The love is already there." Sweets could tell the Fortune Teller was debating harshly with herself, "I could help you, maybe. But if you still don't think you're good enough..."

"Help? What help? I already told you I'd do anything for her!"

A devious smile snaked across her cracked lips, "Would you? Would you really?"

Coming out of the shadows her husband's eyes twinkled, "Should I get the cauldron ready?"

The crone shrugged, noncommittal, "There really isn't any other way, I guess."

The old man did a jig, "Woo-hoo! We're back in business!"

This had taken far longer than Sweets had anticipated. He needed to get more alcohol into Booth ASAP or he was going to remember everything tomorrow. As Marta dumped dubious contents into the pot, he quietly pulled the old man aside and explained. Without a single question, the old man disappeared behind the beads returning with a home bottled brew and a shot glass. He poured it to the brim and had Booth bottoms up.

A little while later Adventure Man palmed the small vial Marta gave them with a smirk. A love potion. Exactly what the doctor ordered. Adventure Man called a cab and rolled Booth out into the sleeting night.

**For those of you that recognize it, Magic Marta and her husband are based loosely off of Miracle Max in _The Princess Bride. _For those of you who haven't seen it, you can watch it with your kids and laugh like crazy. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Telephone conversations happen with the person not in the room being shown in _italics_. This was going to be the final chapter in this posting, but lo and behold! I was a day behind posting, so you get to see Chapter Five, too! Hot off the presses, er... well, you know. Enjoy!**

_Chapter Four: What Goes Up..._

Meanwhile, across town...

Cam was at the head of the crowded conference room munching on Lo Mein with her shoes off . Wong Foo's Chinese cartons were all over the table as the Squinterns and Angela and Hodgins traded food. The Jeffersonian had promoted its office pool into meetings in the conference room cum situation room,"Your week is up Mr. Fisher and Mr. Edison. For those of you who don't know, they managed to get Booth and Brennan moved in together." Small excited gasps filled the room before she nodded and continued, "Has anyone seen anything?"

A chorus of 'no's surrounded the table. Cam wiggled the stuffed manilla envelope, "There's a lot of money in here you guys!" She giggled, "OK, Clark, please write down a number from one to one hundred. Mr. Fisher and Mr. Edison are out. Whoever is closest to Clark's number without going over goes next. Dr. Sweets is in, but he's apparently going solo. Something about the end justifying the means. His money's in the pot, though. So that ups our participants to eight, meaning there's 1600 dollars in our pool. Our newest situation is that Angela and Hodgins are playing the jealousy card. As a matter of fact, Dr. Brennan is out with her young man now. Apparently Booth is not returning his young lady's calls and is out drowning his sorrows with Dr. Sweets. Thanks to Mr. Fisher and Mr. Edison they are now living under the same roof. With _no_ hanky panky going on. We want some hanky panky! So let's get to it!"

A few minutes later it was decided that Mr. Nigel-Murray got to go next. Cam wanted to make a few things clear before she adjourned, "Watch the collateral damage you guys! We can't be destroying apartment buildings or we get clean every tooth from every skeleton in limbo, right Mr. Fisher?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray raised a finger and swallowed hastily, "I do have one question. Does Agent Booth or Dr. Brennan have any heart trouble?"

_Insert VERY TALL dancing coffee cups line break here. :)_

The Next Morning...

Mr. Nigel-Murray scurried early into the Jeffersonian lab with four paper cups of coffee in a cup holder tray. Sidestepping silently to his workstation he surreptitiously withdrew a small prescription bottle from his pocket. Placing a single blue pill into a mortar and pestle, he ground it into a fine powder and emptied it into one of the cups, stirring hastily and replacing the lid.

He climbed the steps to Dr. Brennan's office where he could hear Agent Booth and Dr. Saroyan speaking with her.

He knocked gently on the door frame, "Morning everyone! Thought we could all use a pick-me-up."

Cam's eyes lit up and she reached for the doctored cup, "That's very thoughtful, Mr. Nigel-Murray."

He quickly spun the cup holder, "Ah, this one would be yours. One cream, one artificial sweetener, yes?"

She sipped gratefully, "Perfect. Thank you."

He set the holder on the coffee table and removed two more cups, handing one to Dr. Brennan and handing the doctored cup to Booth.

Mr. Nigel-Murray picked up his own cup and toasted Booth, "They had a new roast. Thought you and I could give it a shot." He sipped carefully and made a show of rolling it around in his mouth, "Somewhat earthy, I think. But not bad."

Booth sipped and made a slight face, "I guess. Thanks." He shrugged and took a large gulp.

"Don't mention it, Agent Booth." Mr. Nigel-Murray bounced on his toes then bowed slightly, "Right then, I'll be downstairs if anyone needs me."

He thundered down the stairs nearly bowling over Dr. Hodgins. "Oh terribly sorry!"

Hodgins laughed good naturedly at the intern nearly vibrating with excitement, "What's up?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray could barely contain himself, "Booth, actually." He looked at his watch, "Or he will be shortly at any rate."

Hodgins squinted his eyes trying to understand, "What?" Mr. Nigel-Murray pulled the pill bottle out of his lab coat craning his neck making sure the coast was clear. Hodgins read it out loud, "Viagra? You gave Booth Viagra?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray shushed him giggling, "Indeed. You know what they say, 'what goes up must come down'."

Hodgins laughed out loud before catching himself and whispering, "As long as he's sharing Dr. B's place my money's on lots of dead kittens and hairy palms."

"We'll see! When it comes time for you and Angela to buy the morning coffee, be a mate and come see me, yes?"

_Insert Dancing Telephone Receivers line break here. :)_

A few hours later, Dr. Brennan sat at her desk finishing up her daily email. It was after seven and Booth was going to meet her for dinner at the Royal Diner any minute. As she was gathering her things, her office phone rang and she picked up, "Brennan."

"_Dr. Brennan, I surmised you would still be in your office despite the late hour."_

Brennan sank back into her office chair out of shock, "Zack?"

"_Yes, Dr. Brennan. I apologize for interrupting your work. I had questions and I knew you would be able to help me."_

"It's no problem, Zack. What are your questions?"

"_Well, Dr. Brennan you know I have been seeing Dr. Sweets?"_

"Of course."

"_One of his courses of treatment revolves around interpersonal feelings. I am struggling to grasp some things and Dr. Sweets has been unable to adequately explain them to me."_

"I am not the person to ask about feelings, Zack. You should talk to Angela or Booth."

"_I tried speaking with Hodgins and Angela both. I cannot understand what they are trying to tell me. I am..." he sighed, "ashamed that I do not understand."_

"I can try to help, Zack. What is your question?"

"_Dr. Brennan, what is love?"_

Brennan was taken aback and fell into her regular definition, "Love is nothing more than a chemical reaction in the brain that releases dopamine and serotonin along with..."

"_I understand the chemical make up of love, Dr. Brennan. The Greek philosophers discussed the different kinds of love, for example, Eros, the act of passionately loving another."_

"Lust."

"_Precisely. But somehow it is often combined with filial love, the passive love of family. How is that possible? It is simply not logical that the same combinations of chemicals in the brain can change and transmute themselves from lust to commitment without some type of chemical trigger. Through all my research here I have found none."_

"Well, Zack, chemically it could be pheromones or..."

"_No. They do not trigger the release of the chemicals, I checked. The question isn't so much is love chemically based. I agree strongly that it is. It is how exactly does love -if you'll pardon the colloquialism- grow and change over time. When a male first sees a female he evaluates her as a mate. __After that the Eros type love comes into the picture. Naturally following suitability to mate, lust would come into play. But after that, after the biological urges are satisfied and the young reared, why is there still love? If we are correct in our hypothesis of love being based from biological urges or chemicals alone, then why does it remain after the childbearing years have passed? Or after a mate has died?It defies logical reasoning."_

Silence filled the line.

"_Dr. Brennan?"_

"I have to go, Zack. I'm late."

"_Of course, Dr. Brennan. Thank you." _

She sat stunned in her chair. Was it possible the student had exceeded the mentor? What indeed was love if it logically wasn't what she thought all along?

_Insert flashing lights and sirens line break here. :)_

Dr. Hodgins brought the tainted coffee into Dr. B's office, a willing accomplice to Mr. Nigel-Murray. Booth took his cup gratefully and pulled a face. Why did every cup of coffee he had at the Jeffersonian this week taste like crap? Hodgins disappeared back downstairs to feed the corpse beetles and Bones bent over her desk with her back to him.

Man, her ass should be registered as a lethal weapon. Booth shook his head abruptly. Where did that come from? What was wrong with him lately? He had to sneak through Bones's house at night just so she wouldn't catch a hint of his raging libido, or the party going on in his pants that didn't have any takers. Seeing her in her little short pajamas and her hair pulled up in a pony with a freshly scrubbed face... Walking in the bathroom after she showered and smelling her shampoo and perfume – her smell... Eating the dinner she cooked together every night across the table just like they were actually living together... It was too much. Way too much. He'd have to find another place to stay and soon.

He stayed glued to the couch, folders across his lap, silently naming saints in his head for the fourteenth time this week. At this point, nothing short of a presidential mandate was going to make him stand up in front of Bones. She wiggled her lethal weapon once more digging in the trash, "I know it's in here. I just threw it away."

He groaned inwardly with frustration, trying and failing to reign in his raging libido, "Bones? Bones! It doesn't matter. We'll just have Angela print another."

Bones turned just in time to catch him still staring at her behind, "What are you doing Booth?"

Busted. He couldn't tear his eyes from her even when she was looking straight at him, "What? I'm..." His phone rang. What a lifesaver! He popped it open with a huge grin, "Booth."

Brennan watched as his face dropped then grew dark and tight as he listened. She could see his right hand creeping involuntarily to his sidearm. Something was wrong. Very wrong. As soon as he'd clapped the phone shut she spoke, "Booth? What's wrong?"

Booth grit his teeth, "We have a meeting with Caroline, Hacker and Perotta. You have a stalker."

Brennan was abashed, "But my publisher said they'd contact you if they got any more..."

Booth was across the room and grabbing her elbow and drilling his eyes into hers before she could finish her sentence, "Apparently they went straight to Hacker. You are not leaving my sight. Understand?"

Brennan knew she wasn't going to win a logically based argument with Booth's alpha-male, but she wouldn't be herself if she didn't try, "But Booth..."

Booth snaked his arm possessively around her waist and began propelling her firmly out the door, "No buts, Bones. This time you are going to let me do my job."

Brennan huffed as he pulled her down the stairs, his pistol poking her in the ribs, "But Booth we don't even know how dangerous he is. It would make more sense if we could actually see the evidence."

Booth ignored her, making a bee-line for Cam's office. Leaning his head inside he saw her at her desk, "Cam, I want you to call security and get some more bodies in here. Have them check all the recorders and make sure they're working. Bones has a stalker. I'm taking her over to the Hoover to get the briefing. Tell your head of security to expect a call from me as soon as we're done."

Cam nodded curtly. This wasn't Dr. Brennan's first stalker. It probably wouldn't be her last. But nothing was going to happen to her at the Jeffersonian on Cam's watch, "I'm on it, Seeley. Keep me in the loop." She could hear Dr. Brennan protesting in the hall as he strode purposefully away. God help that stalker if Booth got a hold of him. This guy obviously didn't know who he was messing with.

Arriving at the Hoover building twenty minutes later, Booth dragged a still protesting Bones into the conference room. Noticing the table in the room was full, Brennan wrenched herself from Booth's grip and straightened her jacket before taking a seat.

Caroline Julian smirked inwardly, that was fast. She opened the leather portfolio on the table in front of her and began passing copies out to Booth, Brennan, Hacker and Perotta. "Glad you two could make it."

Booth scowled. If Bones hadn't insisted they couldn't turn on the siren they'd have been here in ten minutes flat. He took the sheaf of papers that was passed to him and read the first few pages. It didn't start getting creepy until letter number four:

_... I can smell your skin as you wrap yourself around me._

_And you will. You will love me. No one else seems to understand us._

_But that doesn't matter. You and I know we were destined to be_

_together forever. No one else can have you..._

Booth's eyes shot up to scan everyone at the table in alarm, "Who is this dirt bag?"

Hacker sighed heavily, "We don't know yet. Forensics has tried to trace the paper and the ink. It's too common to pinpoint anything. The return addresses come up as anonymous re-mailers. No DNA or prints on the envelopes. According to the profilers, we think..."

He was crinkling the corner of his copy inadvertently, "How long? How long have you known?"

Hacker cringed even as he said it, he knew what would be next, "About six weeks. The publisher contacted me as soon as they got the fourth letter."

Brennan wasn't about to stand by and watch Booth turn Andrew into a punching bag, "So we have no evidence leading to this person?"

Booth plowed right over Bones, this was his problem. Protecting her was his job, "So this fruit loop has been out there for six weeks since he wrote this," Booth gestured to his crinkled paper, "and we've got nothing?"

Perotta finally chimed in, "We have a plan, Agent Booth. Dr. Brennan is going to be just fine."

Caroline was pleased as punch on the inside. Hook, line and sinker, Agent Booth. "Calm down, Cher. Thanks to Deputy Director Hacker, we have a plan to force this nut out into the open."

Bones shrugged, it seemed to Booth like she didn't even see the seriousness of this situation, "Many stalkers are mentally unstable. If Andrew has a plan for capturing him before he harms me, I don't see a reason to worry."

Finally Hacker said something that made sense, "Tempe, I don't want you dismissing this. We really can't be too careful. Most stalkers are relatively harmless, but this one seems to be one of the exceptions. Agent Booth will be staying with you throughout this entire operation."

Booth deflated with relief, "See Bones? Even Director Hacker says I stay with you twenty-four seven. Now let's talk about this plan."

Caroline put in her two cents, "Well it's obvious he thinks he's in love with Dr. Brennan. I've prosecuted these types of cases before. We need to get him to show himself, Cher. And we need to do it without getting Dr. Brennan hurt."

"She won't get hurt," Booth ground out.

Hacker cut in, "Taking advice from the profilers, we've arranged a wedding. The press releases have already been sent to Tempe's publisher. Caroline's been working on the marriage license. We'll have Charlie play the part of the groom..."

Booth stood and paced with a hand on his hip, "What? Charlie? There's no way Charlie is marrying Bones." He froze under Hacker's scrutiny and backpedaled quickly, "It's not that Charlie isn't a great Agent. He is. I would definitely want him covering my back..."

It was Bones who interrupted Booth, looking for reassurance, "I thought I got to cover your back, Booth."

Booth ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "You do, Bones. You do. It's just that with Charlie marrying you, how am I supposed to stay close enough to protect you?"

Perotta piped in, "Booth does have a point, Director."

All eyes fell on the Deputy Director. Hacker thought about it for a moment then nodded. Caroline's face ground into a frown as she waved a paper, "Let me guess. You're telling me I have to call all those people back at the County Clerk's Office and get this license changed? Merde!"

Brennan nodded, still in logical mode, "It would seem so. It only makes sense that if you want Booth on protection detail with me he can't leave my side. We wouldn't want to give the stalker any reason to believe this is a trap."

Hacker tilted back in his chair. Caroline had been right. This was easier than he thought. He added his own little twist as a final flourish of triumph, "You can't tell anyone about this. Right now we have no idea who this guy is or how much information he has access to. Think of it as going undercover, Tempe. You'll just be going undercover as yourself."

Ooooh! Caroline secretly wondered if that man didn't have some Cajun in his blood. Hacker was really driving it home. She straightened her papers and pinned a deadly gaze on Wonder Boy and his Lady Scientist, "Listen, Chers, and when he says no one, he means it. If they're not in this room, they don't get to know."

After they both nodded solemnly satisfying Caroline, Booth gripped the back of Bones's chair, "Then it's settled. Bones and I are getting married."

**And on to the bonus chapter! Get on with it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I normally like to mull over and tighten my writing for a day or two. I'm going to take a chance and post this one without that. I finished it a few hours ago and feel very guilty for not posting yesterday. As always... all typos and mistakes are my own. Please enjoy! Next post will be around Thanksgiving.**

_Chapter Five: Bunsen, Beaker and the Bakery_

Wendall sat on the empty autopsy table drumming his fingers restlessly. He'd put his money in the pot without any idea how he was going to make his boss and Agent Booth do the horizontal inevitable. God knows he and his family could really use that money. His mom had been working double shifts ever since Dr. Brennan brought him back to the lab. Without the overtime he had made at the garage, money had been too tight to mention. Guilt gnawed at him as he thought of the electric bill at home on the kitchen table. Vazeeri trotted up the steps, putting away a tray of newly sterilized surgical instruments.

Vazeeri spoke first, "Hey, Wen. You still going out Friday with that girl from archives?"

Forcing himself back from thinking about the office pool, Wendell nodded, "Yeah."

Shaking his hand in parody, Vazeeri smiled broadly, "Man, she is smoking!"

Wendall smiled back, but with much less wattage, "Yeah. She is."

Vazeeri propped himself up next to Wendall. It was obvious something was wrong. They'd never been particularly close, but Vazeeri was a kind man and willing to take a chance, "So what's wrong?"

Wendall hopped off the table with a huff of frustration and shoved his hands in his pockets, "It's this whole deal with the bet."

Smiling crookedly, Vazeeri nodded, "It's about time we did something about it."

"Sure. It's just... Well, two hundred dollars is a lot of money to me and my mom. I don't know why I even made that stupid bet. I really can't afford it." Wendall finished sheepishly.

Both of Vazeeri's parents were doctors. He'd never known what it was like to choose between lights and food. He looked at Wendall's anguished features and decided no one should ever have to make that choice. Vazeeri hopped down and planted a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Tell you what? I made the bet, too. We can team up..." He held his hand up at the beginning of Wendall's protests to quiet him, "And if we win, you can have all of it."

Wendall squinted with wounded pride, "You'd do that for me?"

Vazeeri clapped his shoulder twice, "Of course. That's what friends do."

Wendall extended a hand and a full genuine smile, "Thanks, man. That's great." He pumped Vazeeri's hand enthusiastically for a half second before his face fell flat, "But I've still got no idea what to do. I've been racking my brain for days. I mean sure, I can get a woman to like _me_, but how do you get a girl to like someone else?"

Unfazed, Vazeeri raised a finger, "Ah! I've got an idea on that. The Qu'ran says the truth shall set men free."

Wendall scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

_Insert crawling beetle line break here. :)_

Hodgins was at his desk identifying a rare beetle for a buddy at Northwestern University. It was a tricky little bugger and every time Jack thought he could prove it was a new species and got excited about naming it after Angela, some of his more obscure references would prove him wrong. He scratched out his latest hypothesis on his notepad and grimaced. Rolling his neck around to work out the kinks, he saw Wendall lope by under a pile of huge books, "Hey, Wen. How's it going?"

Wendall smiled cheerily but didn't break his stride, "Morning."

Hodgins rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. He couldn't wait until Angela was out of her early meeting with Cam so she could give him one of her jello-inducing shoulder rubs. He turned back to his bug and held it up gingerly with tweezers, twisting it in the light, "And you, my beautiful little troublemaker, are going to tell me what the hell you are."

Behind the bug, Mr. Vazeeri staggered along under a haphazard ton of books following a few mintues behind Wendall. He called out happily as he passed, weaving slightly to keep the pile in his arms, "Morning, Dr. Hodgins!"

"Morning!" Jack took his bug back under the lighted magnifying lens, determined to get bragging rights over his old college roommate.

After another hour and five more scratched out scientific names on his list, Wendall appeared, "Hey! You have a bunsen burner and some filter paper?"

That was an odd request. Jack blinked himself back to the moment, "Sure. In the cabinets in lab two."

Wendall knocked twice on Jack's desk, before dashing off, "Thanks!"

Jack shrugged and scrubbed his face. It was time to call in the big guns on this beetle. He dug for the number in his computer and calculated the time in London. He picked up the phone and dialed.

After he'd emailed the digital photos and his notes to Niles. Jack moseyed off to the break room for a candy bar. He could hear scuffling in the smallest lab room, lab three. Behind the cracked door he could hear voices:

Vazeeri: "We need more stoppers and a petcock to finish the distillers."

Glass smashed with a tinkle on the floor.

Vazeeri: And more glass tubing. Bending this stuff isn't easy.

Wendall: "You sure this is going to work? I'm a bone guy, not a chemist."

Vazeeri: "Sure. My cousin works at Dow. He said it was pretty straight forward."

Wendall: "Yeah, but what if we synthesize something wrong? I mean it's a big risk. It could be dangerous."

Vazeeri: "My brother runs a mass spectrometer at the University of Maryland. We'll make sure before we give it to Dr. Brennan."

Jack tilted his head at that. Dangerous experiments were his specialty. He wondered what Dr. B had them up to. And why would they use the mass spec at U of M? They had one right here, next to his desk. His stomach growled loudly. He'd check later. Right now, he was starving.

_Insert dancing black bow tie line break here. :)_

Later that afternoon, the conference table was full of every doctor and intern in the lab. Cam winced inwardly. This was going to go over like a fart in church. Taking a steadying breath, she steamed ahead, "OK people, listen up. Lastly, I want to congratulate you on the work you've been doing for the FBI. Out of over a hundred forensic teams in the United States, we had the highest case closure ratio." Nods around the table weren't surprised, but it was always nice to be recognized.

"Apparently the powers that be are thrilled to death. The FBI is throwing a banquet in our honor next Friday. I expect all of you to be there. It's black tie, so rent 'em if you need to." She paused waiting for the groaning to die down, "This is _not_ optional. The board mandated everyone's attendance." Cam pinned Hodgins and Dr. Brennan with a hard stare, until they both quelled, "Our work with the FBI pays for thirty percent of our budget, folks. So, if you want to work with that new shiny piece of equipment you've been eying up next year or keep your job, you'll show."

Cam clapped her hands together brightly, and pasted on an overtly cheerful smile, "That's it folks. Have a great rest of the day."

Grumbles erupted in small groups as the room cleared. Hodgins was shaking his head, "How did they suddenly become the biggest donor to this department? I've got to talk to my board of directors about this. Mandatory black tie crap."

Angela wrapped an arm around his middle, trying to soften the blow, "I'll get all dolled up for you, Jack. And we'll leave early. It'll be fun." She trailed off as they left the room.

Cam raised a finger, "Dr. Brennan? You have a minute?"

Dr. Brennan stepped back inside the doorway, "Sure. What can I do for you, Cam?"

Cam motioned to walk with her, "I just wanted to let you know that Hacker spoke with me earlier, we have additional FBI security assigned here at the lab. He told me about the letters. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, Cam. Booth is the one you should be worrying about. He's been acting very strange."

As if on cue, a familiar bellow rang from below, "Bones?"

Cam hesitated at the top of the stairs, explaining, "He's just worried about you. We all are. Just... let him do his thing. It'll all be over before you know it." She pierced Booth, now at the bottom of the stairs with a withering glare, "No yelling in my lab unless it's on fire. Got it?"

Booth was holding files awkwardly across his middle. He grinned apologetically at Cam and jumped up a few steps to meet his partner halfway, "Hey Bones, we've got a meeting over at the Hoover. Chop, chop!"

Cam held out a cup of coffee, "I thought I wasn't going to be able to pry you from her side today. I had Mr. Nigel-Murray order you one for the meeting."

Booth downed the tepid, horrible coffee as Brennan grabbed her purse and coat. They left the building and climbed into Booth's SUV. He propped the folders carefully on his lap and left them there as he drove.

"Booth, I can hold those files."

"What? No. Bones, they're fine."

"Booth it is unsafe for you to operate a vehicle with items in your lap. If the papers fell, it could distract you and lead to an unpredictable driving incident which could result in an impact." She reached for them and he batted her hand away.

"They're keeping me warm." Brennan huffed and cranked up the heat as they sped down the road. It took only a moment before Booth was sweating, "What did you do that for?"

"You were cold. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. I didn't realize you needed that much heat to stay warm. Most men your age have sufficient testosterone to..."

"It's just my lap that's cold, Bones. The rest of me is boiling." He undid the fastens on his coat.

"That makes no sense, Booth. Your lap would be directly tied to your core temperature."

Sidestep, Booth, sidestep, "We're meeting Perotta. We need to start working on the wedding."

Brennan knew misdirection when she heard it, "I know you are changing the subject, Booth. If you are uncomfortable talking about the files in your lap all you have to do is say so."

"I don't want to talk about it." He ground out.

"Fine, but why?" Wide blue eyes met his.

"Bones! We have to fake a wedding so some fruitcake doesn't hurt you and all you can think of is the stuff in my lap! Just let it go."

"Fine." She tightened up and stared out the window at the traffic.

Booth glanced at her walling herself off, then back to the road. He knew had to ease into this. He'd been dancing around it since the meeting with Hacker, "I've been meaning to talk to you... are you OK with this whole wedding thing? I mean, I know how you feel about..."

Animation returned to her instantly and those ice blue eyes that made him keep folders in his lap captured his, "I'm actually quite excited."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Dare he hope? "Really?"

"Yes. It's a rare opportunity for me to examine the antiquated ritual from a first person view. It will be a fascinating perspective, that given my opinion on the matter, I would never likely be able to get otherwise."

In his mind he was sweeping up little pieces of dashed hope and shoving them under a rug, "That's it?"

"No. I understand that we need to deal with the stalker. The rouse of a wedding is an efficient use of resources for us to expose and apprehend him."

Booth had a trump card and he wasn't above playing it, "What are you going to tell Angela? Let's face it, you're not a good liar, Bones."

She shrugged, "I was going to take her out to lunch tomorrow and tell her we're engaged."

The SUV swerved dangerously, "Bones! You can't do that!"

"I don't understand. Why not?"

"People just don't up and say they're getting married! They'll never believe it if we don't act like we're in love."

There was that word again. She thought she understood it perfectly until Zack called. She frowned, "I don't how to do that."

"Do what?"

"Act like I'm in love." She always got very quiet and shy when she didn't understand something and this was no exception.

Booth sighed heavily. How was he going to explain it? "Remember Angela and Hodgins before they got married, Bones?"

She perked with recognition, "Will this involve having sex in the Egyptian bed?"

"What Egyptian bed? No. Just, you know, they gave each other that _look_, they kissed, spent every moment together. That kind of thing."

"What look, Booth? The sex look? Maybe we should have sex just to make it more realistic. It will be hard for me to simulate..."

The party in his trousers surged at the word sex. He shuffled the folders on his lap then grabbed the steering wheel for dear life. "Look, Bones, it's easy. We just have to pretend we're dating hot and heavy for awhile. Then I'll give you a ring and we'll make the announcement together."

"You mean the FBI will give me a ring. I thought they were covering the expenses of the..."

"Whatever. They have to think the ring came from me. That's what guys do. They buy the ring."

"So it won't be very big."

She did _not_ just go there, "What makes you say that?"

"You are a government employee, Booth. I know you are inadequately compensated for your work."

Oh yes, she did. "Bones!"

"I could buy the ring. I can afford it much easier than you can."

"What? No. The guy buys the ring. I'm the guy. I buy the ring. Period. End of discussion." He threw the transmission in park and carefully extricated himself, folders still in place, from the truck.

_Insert little spinning FBI shields line break here. :)_

Perotta was five minutes late as she dashed into Agent Booth's office and closed the door behind her, "You have no idea how hard it is to get a bakery to even talk to you without six month's advance notice. I had to flash the badge and lean on them, but I got it."

Booth was sitting behind his desk, and thank God for it. He could get the stupid papers out from in front of him. Bones was already suspicious. He had no idea how he was going to get close enough to kiss her in front of witnesses. Counting saints wasn't even working any more. He only heard the tail end of Perotta's entrance, "Got what?"

"A cake. Agent Perotta secured us a cake." Brennan supplied calmly.

"Right. So why are we here?" Booth drummed his fingers on his desk.

Perotta had a huge checklist in front of her, "We need to finalize the details on the wedding. There are a lot of decisions to make. The Deputy Director is giving us a strict budget to work with, so we're going to have to be a bit creative."

Booth plastered on a fake smile remembering the ring crack from his partner earlier, "Well, it's not like it's a real wedding, right Bones?"

"For my own purposes I would prefer it to be as real as possible." Brennan answered tightly.

Perotta skimmed down her list ignoring them, "Agent Booth, you'll need a tux. You can use Henri's down on Eighth, we have an account with them. We had some wedding dresses downstairs, but they were all old and Hacker agreed with me that they weren't exactly what this year's celebrity bride would be wearing. So we'll need to shop for a dress for you, Dr. Brennan. Then there's the flowers. Also, I'll need a list of your wedding party. Who's going to be bridesmaids and groomsmen. We have to clear them first. They'll need appropriate clothing, too. Oh!" She dug in her folder and produced five different pieces of paper, "Invitations. We'll need the number on the guest list, and you'll have to choose a style..."

Bones turned to Booth, "I understand that most binding rituals are highly detailed, but the number of decisions to be made is rather large, isn't it?"

Booth smiled, "It's not so bad. This afternoon we can go down and get me fitted for a tux, then we'll go find you a dress."

A rare expression of horror crossed her face, "No! I clearly know that you are not supposed to see me in my dress before the wedding. It is considered bad luck. It also wouldn't please Angela if I didn't take her."

"Bad luck or not, Bones, you're in protective custody. _My_ protective custody." He thumped his chest, "Angela isn't an FBI agent."

"Agent Perotta is." They both looked at the pretty blonde agent.

"Of course. I'll be happy to go, Dr. Brennan." Bones smiled victoriously at Booth as Perotta continued, "But we do have one little problem."

"Oh?" Brennan was clearly taken unawares.

"If the bakeries were any indication, we'll need to get a move on. As it stands right now, no one even thinks you're dating."

"Tell ya what, me and Bones will go out to dinner tonight and go over the checklist and I'll get it back to you in the morning."

"I can't go tonight, Booth. I have a previous social engagement." Brennan almost mumbled.

He jumped up from his seat immediately, then sank back down remembering his current condition, "You can't be seeing other guys while we're dating, Bones! Cancel it. You're going out with me."

"I could meet you after." Brennan bargained. She still hadn't gotten Grant to let Parker meet the team.

"The whole point of getting married is committing yourself to another person. No dating other guys! Consider yourself taken."

"Taken?" Her nose crinkled in confusion.

Booth tried and tried, she wasn't getting it. "Off the market. No longer looking. Spoken for."

Brennan stiffened, "Those phrases make me sound like a possession. I don't appreciate being treated like a bag of groceries."

"Not groceries, Bones. A gem. A rare and precious gem." He smiled, quite satisfied she'd understand.

Bones crossed her arms across her chest and humphed.

Or not."Think about it in squinty terms, Bones. If I only had one mate for the rest of my life, she would be the most important person to me because without her I couldn't pass on my genes."

She was still frowning, "The hyperbole still defies logic."

He drove his hand through his hair, "Forget the gem thing, OK? Perotta's right. We have to start acting like we're dating right now. Today. In front of everyone."

"Thinking about it, everyone already assumes we sleep together already. It shouldn't be that difficult."

"That's my girl!"Booth beamed.

"I'm not _your girl_."

Perotta handed off the multiple page list to Booth and stood with a smirk, "Coulda fooled me. See you in the morning, Agent Booth." With that she disappeared, closing the door on both rebuttals.

**More to come at Thanksgiving. Whatever I can manage to scrabble together between now and then. Huge thanks to my loving hubby who giggles in all the right places when I read to him. 3  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**My reviewers rock! We still have a long way to go, so buckle up and keep your hands and arms inside the car at all times.**

Chapter Six: Babies With Bazookas

Booth was on his way back to the Jeffersonian when his phone rang. He checked the number and to his surprise it was someone other than Marcy. He picked up as he wheeled into the parking lot, "Booth."

"_Agent Booth, this is Dr. Marshall." _Marshall was Pops' doctor. The color drained from his face. Booth always dreaded the call that would signal the beginning of the end of having his grandfather in his life.

"What's wrong? What hospital is he at? I was just down there the other day, he seemed fine..."

"_Don't worry, Hank's fine. He's just refusing a change in his medication and I was wondering if you'd talk to him."_

"That doesn't sound like Pops. I'll see what I can do." They hung up and Booth thumbed through his phone book and placed the call to his grandfather.

"_Hello?" _Hank Booth answered his private line in the assisted living facility.

"Pops?"

Warmth filled the phone line, _"Squirt! How are you, son?"_

Booth cleared Jeffersonian security, making his way to the back of the building, "I'm good Pops. But I just got a call from your doctor..."

Hank sighed, this wasn't an unexpected call. He'd already been arguing with Nurse Godzilla about it. He wasn't surprised she'd ratted him out; she'd rat out the Pope._ "About the medicine, right?"_

"Yeah, Pops. Listen..."

Hank was sticking to his guns, _"I'm not gonna take it."_

Booth stopped short, just inside the doors to the lab. "Pops, Dr. Marshall is your doctor. If she says you need to change your meds..."

Hanks voice dropped to a desperate whisper, _"I can't crochet if I take the damn stuff."_

"You can't..." Booth suddenly remembered that crochet was Pops' code word for sex, "Oh. Right. Well. Have you talked to her about it?"

Hank's whisper was rising with agitation, _"Well I don't have to tell Mabel. She was there..."_

Booth scrubbed his face. Pops and sex. He didn't want that picture in his head, "Not Mabel, Pops. Dr. Marshall. Have you told her?"

Hank backpedaled like a chastised child, _"Well no, but..."_

"I'll call her back and we'll see if we can't change it."

Warmth was back in the line,_ "Mabel would appreciate it."_

Booth laughed, "I bet. Listen, I gotta go. I've got to pick up Bones. We're going out to dinner."

"_'Bout time you snatched her up, Squirt."_

"It's not like that, Pops."

Hank harrumphed, _"It should be."_

Booth sighed, "I'll call the doctor. You'll be... er... crocheting again in no time."

"_Love you, son. Give Tempe a kiss for me."_

"Love you, too, Pops." Booth clicked his phone shut and strode off to collect Bones.

_Insert Dancing Crochet Needles line break here. :)_

Hank Booth hung up the phone next to his bed and rubbed his hands together. So Seeley was finally taking Tempe to dinner, huh? This was the break he'd been waiting for to work on his bucket list. He pulled out the yellow pages. After a few minutes of digging for his reading glasses and wallet he carefully dialed a number, "Hello? I want a dozen red roses delivered tomorrow morning to Dr. Temperance Brennan at the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington D.C."

He listened carefully and verbally nodded along for a moment before interrupting the sales girl, "No. Not that kind; those are junk. The long stem ones. With like two feet of stem. In a crystal vase. With a big bow. Right. Now you're talkin'. I don't care what they cost. And I want the card to say, 'Thanks for a wonderful evening.' Right. And sign it 'Booth'. No, just 'Booth'. Got it? Good."

Hank gave his credit card information and hung up the phone. His mission accomplished, he went off to go find Mabel. Maybe they could pick up that dropped stitch.

_Insert corpses doing the cabbage patch dance line break here. :)_

Cam watched surreptitiously between her office blinds as Booth ushered Dr. Brennan out of the lab. She waited a full minute after the door swished shut behind them before stepping out into the lab and shouting, "All clear! Let's move!" She shooed the stragglers in front of her as they all headed to the conference room, "Let's go!"

Reaching the conference room, she waited for everyone to take their seats before speaking, "OK, gang. Update time. Mr. Nigel-Murray I haven't had any reports of property damage so I honestly have no idea what your plan was this week."

Standing at the table with a broad smile, Mr. Nigel-Murray took out a small prescription bottle and set it in the center of the table, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Viagra."

Cam's eyebrows shot up as she covered her chuckle with her palm. Laughter erupted around the room. Angela was the first to recover enough to speak, "So that's why Studly has been ducking behind furniture all week."

Jack could barely speak, "Dude, if Booth ever catches on you've been spiking his coffee, he's going to shoot you."

Sweets came rushing in, breathless, "Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything?" He slid into a vacant chair next to Daisy.

Cam's mouth fell open, "Oh. My. God. The coffee!"

Lance bounced his attention between Cam and the intern, "He gave Booth Viagra?" His head shook as he laughed, "Dr. Hodgins is right. Booth has definite anger issues." He pointed a finger at Mr. Nigel-Murray, still laughing, "You are a dead man."

Cam recovered enough to continue on, "So, we've got Dr. Brennan going out with Grant."

Angela piped in, "Grant _'the grabber'_."

Cam couldn't contain herself. It almost wasn't fair. Almost. "The Grabber, right. Fisher and Clark flooded Booth's apartment, so they're now living together..."

Lance's mouth fell into an 'O' of surprise, "That was you?"

Cleaning the teeth was so worth it, Colin Fisher grinned and nodded, "Yup. Tell him and I'll find a way to make your life more of a living hell than mine is."

Lance held up both hands in surrender, as Cam jumped back in, "So, Dr. Sweets what have you been up to?"

An adorable conspiratorial look overtook Lance's features, "Well. I'm only half done, so I don't want to spoil it. But! I have it on good authority we may be working on the wrong partner. I got Booth extremely drunk a few nights ago and he said some things... Well, let's just say we need to be working on Dr. Brennan. I'm on it, though. I'm just waiting on the right moment."

Wendall grimaced, "She definitely the harder one to crack." He smiled broadly and high-fived Vazeeri, "Good thing we have a plan!"

Vazeeri laughed, "We're almost ready!"

Cam tried to calm down the room, "I still haven't seen much of anything. Anyone else?" Disappointed sighs and shaking heads answered her, "OK, gang we need to determine who's going next. Same as last time, Mr. Nigel-Murray write down your number."

Daisy, Vazeeri, and Wendall scribbled down their numbers. Jack took tally, "What about you, Dr. Saroyan? You haven't taken a turn yet."

Cam shook her head, "I've had my hands full running interference with collateral damage. I haven't decided what I'm doing yet. Maybe next week."

Mr. Nigel-Murray raised a finger, "Oh, and as a nod to Mr. Fisher and Mr. Edison, for keeping Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan under one roof during my week, I am willing to continue Booth's daily _vitamin_."

Cam laughed, nodding, "Let's see who wins." She checked the entries, "And Mr. Vazeeri has it. Mr. Vazeeri would you like Mr. Nigel-Murray to continue?"

Mr. Vazeeri frowned and whispered back and forth with Wendall, "Wen and I are teamed up. We're going to say yes for now. But tomorrow morning I need to make some phone calls." He turned to Mr. Nigel-Murray, "I'll call you later, if that's OK?"

Mr. Nigel-Murray smiled congenially, "Just let me know." He rattled the prescription bottle, "Should have enough for a week or two more."

Cam sighed with good-natured exasperation, "You guys have to be really careful with medication. No unintended drug reactions! I mean it!" Vazeeri and Wendall only smiled innocently in reply. Cam narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "And nothing that'll show up on a drug test."

Mr. Vazeeri raised his right hand, "Wouldn't dream of it! Would we, Wendall?"

Wendall shook his head emphatically, "No way!"

Cam gave a single firm nod, satisfied, "Alright gentlemen, you have one week. Now go home!" She didn't know how much more Booth could take. Viagra? Trying to keep the interns in check was like being a kindergarten teacher for savants with bazookas.

_Insert babies with bazookas line break here. :)_

They sat on her couch a few inches apart. Bones was dutifully going down Perotta's checklist and Booth had been consistently distracted. From his vantage point he could see just a hint of cleavage as she bent over the bridal magazines. He'd had a throw pillow on his lap for hours.

Bones pointed to a picture in a magazine, "What about something like this?"

"Sure. Whatever you want, baby."

"_Baby?_ Booth, I have been trying not to complain, but that is the fourth time you've called me 'baby' tonight." She whined.

"I haven't been counting," he lied with a winning smile.

Even Bones couldn't mistake that twinkle in his eye, "Booth!" She hit him with a pillow.

"Ah, ah, ah!" He waggled his finger at her. "Is that any way to treat your future husband, Mrs. Booth? I mean, Baby?"

Ooh! He was asking for it! Brennan launched another pillow at him and bounced off the couch as he lunged at her, she let out a rare giggle. He chased her around the room for a few minutes until he managed to tackle her on the couch beneath him. By this time, they were both giggling and breathless.

As they lay there panting, their noses inches apart, Booth watched as Brennan's eyes widened in disbelief. Oh God! He was on top of her. Without a pillow. Booth jumped up like he'd been electrocuted, and blushed furiously, "Sorry, Bones..."

Bones straightened on the couch, "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Booth. It was just a physical reaction to the proximity of a person of the opposite gender."

To hell with it, "I'm not eighteen any more, Bones. It has nothing to do with the proximity of... whatever you said. I have more control than that."

Bones frowned, "I don't think I understand."

"I have to find another place to live, Bones." He shook his head, already packing his bags in his mind.

"But Booth, it's no trouble having you here. I... I don't understand the connection between your physical state and where you live, but I'm sure we can..."

Booth sagged down on the couch next to her. The word schmuck came to him out of the blue. Where had he heard that recently? He _was_ a schmuck, a miserable one, "It's you, Bones!" He softened, "You. You do this to me."

Her genius brain was trying to put all the wrong pieces together, "I don't understand, Booth."

Miserable. Schmuck. Quietly he answered her, almost defeated, "Yes, Bones. You do. Just think about it."

As many times as she'd tried to talk herself out of it, on some level she knew in the basest sense men found her attractive. Booth was a man. All men wanted sex. "Booth, I..."

Dejectedly Booth pushed on, "Exactly, and that's why I have to find another place to live."

"You didn't let me finish. I was going to say if we were pretending to get married anyway, why not just do a little extra research and have sex?"

"What? Bones! No!" Booth waved his hands in front of him emphatically.

"I think we've established you find me attractive. I will confess, I have enjoyed your body symmetry on many occasions when you weren't aware I was observing you and wondered what it would be like to..."

Booth was shaking his head so hard it was starting to make him dizzy, "No. N. O. No sex."

"But Booth! The research would allow us to create a more believable rouse with our friends and family." Seeing she was getting nowhere, she changed tack and smiled coyly, "I'd let you call me 'baby'."

Who was he fooling? Where was he gonna go? More importantly, who was going to protect her with a stalker out there. He'd have to work it out. He threw a pillow at her with a patented Booth smile, "I already do, _baby_."

_Insert dancing party pants line break here. :)_

Early the next morning Wendall and Vazeeri were still hard at work in lab three checking a huge scientific distilling apparatus that bubbled, hissed and dripped it's way across two table tops. Small brown bottles of chemicals were lined up neatly next to the teetering pile of books and notes. Vazeeri pulled an open book out of the stack and skimmed the page, "Check that temp four is 287 Fahrenheit."

Wendall scurried to the appropriate thermometer and squinted at it, "287. Check."

Vazeeri shuffled through some more books, "Everything checks out. Now when it reaches the distiller, we _should_ have a clear liquid and a white precipitate."

Wendall inspected the distiller and reported excitedly, "Yeah! Look! It's here!"

Vazeeri left the counter of books and clapped Wendall on the shoulder, "See? And you said you were a bone guy!"

Wendall threw an arm over his friend's shoulders guy-style, "When it's finished we put it in the centrifuge and take the clear liquid to the mass spec, right?"

Vazeeri nodded, "Yes. If everything checks, then we just measure out the doses and voila! Sodium Pentathol!"

Hodgins poked his head in the door with a broad smile, "Sodium Pentathol! Truth serum? No way! So _that's_ what you two have been up to!"

Vazeeri and Wendall both jumped, but Wendall spoke first, "Jeez, Hodgins! You scared the crap out of us! Is it that late already?"

Jack raised his coffee cup, "Good morning to you, too, Wen." He invited himself into the lab and began inspecting the distillery. "Wow, you guys really went to town on this!" He squatted so he was eye-level with the distillate, "So this is it, huh? The little gem used to interrogate American citizens during the Red Scare in the fifties." After the conspiracy theories had finished marching through his brain, Jack froze, "Wait. You're gonna give this to Booth and Dr. B?"

Vazeeri stepped in quickly, "We're going to thoroughly test it first to make sure it's safe."

"And," Wendall interjected, "We're going to give it to them in a safe environment."

"A private environment." Vazeeri added.

Wendall nodded, "Yeah, private. What they say is nobody's business but theirs."

Jack sighed, "Alright, when it's done, we'll run it through the mass spec and a few more tests just to be on the safe side."

Wendall cocked his head, "You're really gonna help us with this?"

Grabbing his coffee cup off the counter, Jack laughed on his way out the door, "It's that or explain to my wife how two interns killed her best friend. See ya!"

**In real life Sodium Pentathol is an injected drug. I took some liberties with it in this story for the sake of fun. Oh, and important safety tip: don't try _any_ of this at home. We're pretend professionals, etc. etc. If you _don't_ listen and flood your friend's apartment, force feed him an ED treatment, give his girlfriend an unidentified potion, create a pretend stalker or do anything else mentioned in this story and you get beat up, sued or worse, don't say I didn't warn you. **

**For the rest of you who did _not_ light your house on fire after watching _Beavis and Butthead_, by all means, read on!**

****_Beavis and Butthead_ come to us courtesy of Mike Judge and MTV. Sadly, the story is true.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I have outlines in place through ch 12. So, we're about half-way home if everything goes according to plan. As always, every time you leave a review, my dancing llama squad will come and visit you in your dreams. Lots of ground to cover yet, so... Get on with it! Right.**

Chapter Seven: Champagne, Roses and Robert Palmer

Booth's phone rang as he pulled away from the Jeffersonian the next morning. He'd successfully blocked Marcy's calls to go straight to voice mail last night, so he picked up with a smile in his voice, "Booth."

"_Agent Booth. It's Dr. Zack Addy."_

It had been months since Booth had gone to see Bones' wonder kid in the mental ward, "Zack! Wow! It's been a long time. I'm sorry I haven't..."

"_I didn't call for an apology concerning your lack of visitation."_

Straight to the point, the kid sure hasn't changed, "OK. What's up?"

"_I have some questions for you, Agent Booth. Dr. Brennan suggested I call."_

"Shoot."

"_I'm sorry?"_

Booth sighed. Squints. Can't live with 'em, can't prosecute without 'em. "That means ask your questions."

"_Right. Agent Booth, do you love Dr. Brennan?"_

"What?" He hit the accelerator a little too hard pulling out into traffic, squealing his tires and cutting off a little old lady.

"_I'm sure I phrased that correctly. Was there static in the phone service?"_

"No, Zack. I heard you."

"_Then please answer the question, Agent Booth."_

Duck, dodge and weave. If they thought the kid was unstable now, they should see him after Booth tried explaining the mess his relationship with Bones was. "Bones and I are partners. We've been partners for a long time, so yes, I guess you could say we've become close."

"_That was not the question Agent Booth. I asked if you love Dr. Brennan."_

Diversions weren't working. This was really none of his business. "I don't see what this has to do with anything, Zack."

"_In my current course of therapeutic treatment I am learning how to observe human behavior. I was given several photographs of you and Dr. Brennan. I am asking for confirmation of my hypothesis that you love her."_

"I..." No dice getting a word in. The squint was on a roll.

"_I called Dr. Brennan a few days ago and spoke with her. I believe her hypothesis that love is a simple matter of brain chemicals to be erroneous."_

That was new. Bones hadn't mentioned he called. He must've really rattled her cage."Did you tell her that?"

"_Yes, I did."_

"Well, what did she say?"

"_She did not respond. Apparently, she had a prior engagement and was running late."_

Sure she did. "Uh-huh."

"_But she did suggest I speak with you. That is the reason I am calling. Are you in love with Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth?" _

Booth made static noises between words as he spoke, "Zack?" Static. "Zack are you there?" Static. "I can't hear you..." Booth clapped his phone shut. It rang a few moments later, he picked up with a guilty wince, "Booth."

"_Agent Booth, if you do not wish to discuss the matter with me, that is all you need to communicate. But before you hang up on me again, allow me to state quite clearly that I have sufficient data to conclude Dr. Brennan is a good person. If you in any way hurt or bring harm to Dr. Brennan, I am a forensic genius. Despite my self-imposed circumstances, I can and will get away with murder."_

The kid might not be much to look at, but Booth knew from personal experience he had a brain the size of Jupiter. He wasn't bluffing. He'd also hate explaining to Bones why he shot a twelve year old. "Now hold on, Zack! Nobody's going to hurt anybody! You're right, OK? Your hypotha-thingy is right. I love her. You don't hurt the people you love."

"_I appreciate the confirmation on my hypothesis. She reciprocates those feelings, Agent Booth."_

"What?" The SUV swerved again. Just thinking about Bones was dangerous while driving.

"_She loves you."_

"No, Zack I don't think..."

"_Have you told her you love her?"_

"Well, not in so many words, but I asked her if she wanted to date last year..."

"_You did it wrong, Agent Booth. Just tell her you love her."_

He wasn't taking dating advice from a guy that he remembered having the social skills of a hamster, "You don't just come right out of the blue and tell someone you love them."

"_You do with Dr. Brennan. Every time she weighs the situation logically, you're going to lose, Agent Booth. Her love for you is so strong she'd rather have you in her life in any capacity, rather than risk losing you by changing your relationship. You need to eliminate the risk in the equation by assuming it yourself. You need to tell her you love her first. Although, I have to admit, I fail to see what the color blue has to do with it." _A long pause filled the line,_ "If you don't, I will."_

Booth grabbed the steering wheel and swerved hard left to miss the idiot who couldn't merge onto the highway. "Zack! Don't you dare! I'll..." The line was already dead.

_Insert dancing roses line break here. :)_

Fidgeting in his tux, Booth waited impatiently in the living room for Bones to finish getting ready. He checked his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. He rubbed his left foot on his right calf to clear up a tiny smudge on the top of his shoe and called out, "Bones! Com'on! We're gonna be late for our own par..."

Her cleavage was shoved to the brim of the strapless dark red gown. It held every delicious curve, leaving very little to the imagination. "I told you I was coming, Booth." As she turned to fasten an earring, he saw the slit up one side that exposed her leg to the hip and ended at the bottom in a matching stiletto heel.

"Wow!" Booth struggled to keep his eyes in their sockets, "Bones, baby...You look... Wow!" He grabbed her wrap and draped it over her shoulders.

Smiling, she turned for him, "I should assume that 'wow' is a colloquial way of stating that I look presentable?"

"Yeah! You look amazing! I'm going to be the envy of every guy in the room." He lightly kissed her cheek.

She smiled, "Thank you. You look pretty amazing yourself. Just let me get my evening bag and we can leave." The wiggle her hips made while walking in that dress could melted plate steel, Booth was sure of it. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Oh and I wanted to thank you, Booth." Bones tucked a lipstick in her small clutch, "The flowers were quite lovely. I think it's the first time someone has ever given me actual long stemmed roses."

Booth panicked on the inside. He hadn't sent any flowers. "Bones, I didn't..."

Worry crossed Brennan's face, "But they were signed by you."

The stalker.

The little hairs on Booth's arms stood on end. He flipped open his phone and while it was ringing double checked his side arm. "Perotta? Booth. Listen, Bones had flowers delivered to her today. The card said they came from me, but they didn't. I need someone to swing by her office and check them over for bugs or poison or... just get them out of there. And I wanna know who sent them as soon as you find out. This could be the break we've been waiting for." Booth snapped his phone shut, "Com'on Bones. Let's go make every guy in the FBI eat his heart out." The safest place he could think of was a room filled with FBI agents.

"Eat his heart? What? Shouldn't we be going back to my office to see about the flowers?" Brennan dug in her heels as he tried to pull her out the door.

"Delegation, Bones." He pecked her on the cheek, "Perotta can handle it. Let's go get our award, _baby_." Brennan rolled her eyes and followed him out the door on his arm.

_Insert smirking love potions marked: danger! line break here. :) _

After the awards were presented and the speeches given, the champagne had poured and the agents and scientists alike had imbibed in toast after toast. Adventure Man had barely managed to slip the love potion into the last glass of Dr. Brennan's champagne before Daisy wanted to slip off for a night cap.

Sweets and Daisy were the first to arrive at the Founding Fathers and the first to greet Kenny, the barkeep and he returned the wave saying, "Hey! We just got the brand new karaoke machine set up!" Sweets grinned like a little kid, knowing his version of _Lime in the Coconut_ was just a few minutes away. He ordered drinks for himself and Daisy while she went to look at the song list.

They chose a corner close to the microphone and pushed two tables together. Wendall, Vazeeri, Clark and Stephanie arrived. More tables were pushed together and the song machine was christened with Lance's version of his signature song. Still, the group kept arriving. Angela and Dr. Hodgins, Cam and Mr. Fisher and Mr. Nigel-Murray. Booth and Brennan came in, with Booth shouting to Kenny, calling for a round of drinks for the house. A cheer went up throughout the bar.

Bones was glued to his side. After Perotta had called and told him not to worry about the flowers, insisting it was harmless and she would explain Monday, he relaxed and had a good time. Award dinners were usually boring and stuffy, but tonight had been amazing; every guy in that ballroom wanted what he had on his arm. Er, almost had.

It wasn't until the car ride afterward that things had gotten, well, weird. Bones had put her hand on his knee, massaging it and driving him crazy with thoughts of peeling her out of that gown the whole way over. Maybe she'd just had a little too much champagne. Who knew? So, being a gentleman, he'd been extra careful getting her out of the car and tucking her into his arm as they'd walked in.

He almost walked right back out again when he saw the karaoke machine. The last time they'd seen one of those, Booth had taken a bullet for her and almost died. He felt sure it was going to ruin the evening, but nothing seemed to bother Bones tonight. She must've decided she was gonna let her hair down and have some fun.

At the moment, Daisy and Sweets were singing a duet of _Kiss On My List_ by Hall and Oates. Four tables of squints were toasting and singing along. Bones shouted encouragement as Booth ordered the drinks. When he got back to the table, the song was finished. As he handed his partner her drink, she skimmed her hand down his chest with a throaty, "Thank you."

Angela's eyebrows went up with a smile as her best friend radar went off. She, in turn, whispered to Hodgins. She then tapped Brennan's arm, "Having a good time tonight?"

Bones leaned closer to hear over the music, "Yes. Booth is a most attentive date."

Angela smirked her eyes darting to Booth, "I can see he's getting your undivided attention, too."

Bones half-smiled, like the cat who was about to eat the proverbial canary, "Booth has always had exceptional symmetry. But I think the tuxedo is giving him an unfair advantage tonight."

He took a seat next to Bones and she wasted no time in running her hand up and down his thigh. Now, a man had his limits and the strain must have been showing on Booth's face about now because Sweets was staring, his eyebrows hugging the ceiling. Hodgins, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, turned to him and said, "She's lost it, Goose."

Booth batted surreptitiously at Brennan's hand under the table as he plastered on a smile for the Bug and Slime Guy. He wasn't sure if Hodgins was trying to drown him or throw him a life line. The movie reference to _Top Gun_ wasn't lost on him, but there was no way he was getting up there to sing with Hodgins. No. Way. "Uh, no she hasn't." Hodgins laughed out loud, standing. Booth began to panic, "Hodgins! No!"

Hodgins wasn't going to be denied, "Yeah, man, she has." He punched his request into the machine and took up the microphone as the squints went wild, "You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips..." And instantly _You've Lost That Loving Feeling_ was added to the list of songs Booth never wanted to hear again. He was still fighting a losing battle with Bones under the table and squeaked when she found a particularly sensitive spot. He leaned into her whispering loudly over the music, "What's gotten into you tonight, Bones?" He caught Sweets staring again and raised his hand in a half-hearted wave.

She leaned close to his ear, her whispers sending chills to his spine, "You are very handsome in a tuxedo, Booth. I don't believe I have lost that loving feeling." She subtly licked her lips and her eyes bounced from his lips to his eyes.

She might have kissed him then. In front of everyone. He nervously scanned the room and caught Sweets still staring. She was leaning in for the kill, closer and closer until whoever had the microphone next grabbed her attention by saying, "I'd like to dedicate this to Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan." Booth almost cried with relief. The singer began to belt out his version of _No One Is To Blame. _The song was about good old unrequited love. Booth mentally made a note to kill Nigel-Murray later and dump his body somewhere, even if it would be found. He'd take prison any day over this. Booth squeaked again and batted at Brennan's hand. Hell, with the pressure he was under, Caroline could probably plead insanity and he and Zack would have matching extra-long sleeve coats.

By the time the British Dead Man finished, Booth was all but begging for mercy. He half-stood at the table and said a little too loudly, "Bones, why don't you sing us one?" To his relief, many of the people at the tables begged, pleaded and cajoled.

Bones blinked in surprise, then a sly smile that made Booth cringe on the inside crossed her lips, "Sure, Booth. I know one." _Bad idea_, Booth's gut screamed. She leaned over to her left and whispered it in Angela's ear. A shriek of delight erupted from her best friend. Oh, yeah. That was _so_ not good. They both left the table, Brennan to grab the microphone and Angela to start the music.

His gut had never been more right. He slouched in his chair as Bones sang her version of _Like A Virgin_. She didn't just sing it, she _slinked it_ in that tight little satin dress; and she _slinked_ the whole damn thing right at him. The squints went crazy laughing and whooping and carrying on. It just egged her on. Meanwhile, a blush the size of a red tide was climbing his neck above his collar. What had gotten in to her? Was she drunk? He hadn't been counting her drinks, but usually she could drink him under the table.

Returning to the her seat, Bones leaned into his ear, tingling his spine with her breathy whisper, "How'd I do?"

The blush reached Booth's hairline, "Uh... Great, Bones." He stage yawned, "I'm getting kinda tired, I think it's time to go."

She reached under the table until he squealed again. Hodgins caught it this time and leaned over to whisper it to Angela. They had to get out of here. Now. But Bones, or whoever body-snatched her, wasn't quite done yet, "But you haven't sung _me_ a song yet, Booth." She pouted, "I sang you one."

Quick as lightening, he was weighing the embarrassment factor of singing versus having the whole team, whom they had to work with again on Monday, watch as Bones tried to cop another feel under the table, "I sing you a song and we can go?" Bones nodded as she wrapped her painted red lips around the straw to her drink. St. Christopher, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Matthew... And now to top it off, Caroline and Gordon-Gordon took the last two chairs at the tables. The need to escape outweighed any harassment he was going to have to endure. He leaned in to whisper in her ear for a change, "This one's for you, Bones."

Crossing to the machine, he didn't have to think about what he was going to sing. It was the same song he was going to sing to her that night so many years ago when he was shot. The music started and Booth added his own special swagger to _Bad Case of Loving You. _The opening line said it all: "Doctor, Doctor!Gimmie the news! I got a bad case of loving you...". Robert Palmer _must_ have known Bones in a previous life. There was no other explanation.

To Booth's credit, he got a standing ovation. Ignoring calls for more, he made a bee-line for Bones, stuffed her wrap under one arm, and was prepared to haul her out in a fireman's carry if necessary. To his relief, she stood, let him cover her shoulders and tuck her under his arm. As they said their good-nights, he could hear Caroline really nailing the first bars of _When A Man Loves A Woman _in her Cajun froze and turned to the stage, his jaw woman could _sing. _Who knew? As much as he wanted to stick around and listen, he spun and wove them to the door while everyone was distracted. They were almost home free when Bones smiled that sly smile and gave his butt a squeeze. In front of God, Caroline - who missed her note, and everybody.

Out near Brennan's car, Booth hit the unlock switch on the remote. He was reaching over to open her door when she spun him fast and pinned him up against the car with her body. "Bones? I don't think..."

"Booth! It is customary to give the lady a good night kiss." She didn't even give him time to draw a breath, she just wrapped her arms around his neck and laid one on him. She was on fire and what the hell happened next was anybody's guess. He didn't even know how long they were under. When he came to his senses, Booth found one of his hands in her hair, the other on her behind. They were both struggling to catch their breath. She might look and smell like his partner, but this was _not_ Bones. Seeley Joseph Booth wasn't about to settle after all these years. He broke contact like he'd been burned and opened her door. Not waiting for her to get in, he crossed to the driver's side and slid behind the wheel.

Once both doors were shut, he grabbed the steering wheel with both fists in frustration, "Bones! You're killing me! We are _not_ having sex." He turned the engine over and, difficult as it was to do in Bones' little wind-up toy car, screeched the tires out into traffic.

**Big thanks for helping the storyline along goes to: **

**Harry Nilsson (_Lime In The Coconut_), Hall & Oates (_Kiss On My List_), Columbia Pictures for allowing me to butcher the dialogue of _Top Gun_, The Righteous Brothers (_You've Lost That Loving Feeling_), Howard Jones (_No One Is To Blame_), Madonna (_Like A Virgin_), Robert Palmer (_Bad Case of Loving You_), and helping Caroline to kick it old school, Mr. Percy Sledge (_When A Man Loves A Woman_). Thanks folks, it wouldn't have been half as much fun without you and I never intended any copyright infringement!**


	9. Chapter 9

**So much yet to do! OK we have a lot of things to tie together in this chapter and we're still bringing in new players. As Kurt Vonnegut's Bokenon says, "Busy, busy, busy!" I'd like to thank everyone that left a review, followed or favorited this story. My little green men will come and take out your trash. Chapter nine is in the works and should be up shortly. But for now, on with the show! **

Chapter Eight: Pressure Cooker

Last night Cam excused herself early. She had to get home to Michelle. After Caroline had finished singing, they'd agreed to meet at Dr. Wyatt's restaurant Monday afternoon to catch up. Gordon-Gordon had generously offered the honor of the chef's table. They confirmed a time and Cam walked out to the street, trying to decide if that was a spark of interest she detected flying back and forth between Caroline and Gordon. If it was, good for them.

Movement to her left caught her eye. Dr. Brennan and Seeley were plastered against the side of Brennan's Prius making out. A small smile crept across her face as she turned easily and took the long way around to her own vehicle. If that kiss was any indication, it was mission accomplished for the office pool.

_Insert dancing fireworks line break here. :)_

In the morning, Booth felt like a prisoner in his own bed. It was all he could do last night to get Bones into her bed and him in his. Bones had been all over him; but it wasn't exactly his Bones. Something had been off. There was no twinkle of social awkwardness around her. There wasn't any deliberating hesitation. As hard as it was to keep from giving in, last night she'd been drunk. Booth had never needed to ply women with alcohol before and he wasn't about to start now. Bones was too important to him to screw this up.

His instincts told him to wait until she was up and test the waters before he did or said anything. He heard the soft padding footsteps as Bones went into her bathroom. A few moments later, he heard her pass his doorway and head into the kitchen. The smell of coffee wafted back down the hall.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Against his better judgment, he tossed back the covers and silently pulled on sweat pants and a t-shirt. He was dreading going out there. The tux hanging on the back of the closet door taunted him. The smear of her lipstick on his collar made him wince. In the end, his curiosity won out and he made his way into the kitchen.

The coast was clear. Quickly, he grabbed the mug she'd left for him on the counter and filled it.

"Morning, Booth." He heard her call from the dining room.

He poked his head, only his head, out of the kitchen door to assess the situation. She sat at the table reading the paper and drinking her coffee just like any other day. Her face was freshly washed and she was covered almost head to toe in her favorite fuzzy robe. It looked safe enough, "Morning." He slid through the doorway, hesitating in the frame. When she looked up he plastered a smile in place; it fell as soon as she looked back down at the paper.

He slid into a chair across the table from her. She barely glanced up, holding out a chunk of the paper, "Sports section?"

"Yeah. Uh. Sure." He took the paper and used it to hide his staring. Ducking behind it and turning the page, he tried to be subtle, "How's the head?"

Her eyes never left the page, "If you're asking whether I consumed too many alcoholic beverages last night and am suffering what you would call a hang over this morning, the answer is no."

Booth crunched the paper in half, "You're kidding, right, Bones?"

Brennan put down the financial section of the paper, and evenly met his expression of disbelief, "Why would I be kidding?"

"How much of last night do you remember?" He asked in disbelief.

She shrugged, "All of it. We went to the awards dinner, I made a reception speech on behalf of the forensic team, and we came home. Why?"

"That's it?" His gut was screaming _red alert_. If she didn't have a hangover, then what the hell happened last night?

She keyed into his nervousness, "What else is there to remember, Booth?"

"The Founding Fathers? We went for a nightcap?" _Your wandering hands, your X-rated karaoke. The kiss you rocked my world with, _he thought dejectedly. Brennan looked confused, Booth reached across the table and pushed her cell phone in front of her. "You'd better call Angela."

She picked up the phone but didn't open it, "I don't understand. Why?"

"Bones, I really think this is something you should talk to Angela about first. Call her. I'm gonna go grab a shower. We can talk after." He patted her on the shoulder and left a bewildered Bones in his wake as he went off to take a shower. _Like a Virgin_ danced through his mind, only instead of Madonna, Bones was tipped forward leaving very little of her cleavage to anyone's imagination. It was going to be another cold shower.

Brennan frowned, picked up the phone and dialed. Angela picked up on the fourth ring, _"Hey Sweetie. So how was the rest of your evening with Studly?"_ Innuendo dribbled through every word.

Brennan didn't miss the tone, and she didn't appreciate it, "I don't understand. Booth says we went to the Founding Fathers for drinks last night, but I don't remember any of it."

"_How could you not remember? You were all over Booth, honey. He was trying so hard to be a gentleman and protect your honor. It was adorable."_

If she couldn't remember it, it couldn't have happened. Stick with logic, Brennan. "Angela. None of that happened. We went to the awards dinner and we came home."

"_I tell you what, Jack caught some video on his cell last night. I'm gonna hang up and send it to you. Call me back after you take a look at it."_

Brennan hung up, more confused than ever. Her phone tweeted with a new message. She downloaded it and pressed play. By the end of the thirty second clip, she blanched. She was on stage singing a Madonna song. Booth was trying his hardest to crawl under the table. The second clip was Booth singing to her as she gave him a long sultry look. The third clip was her leaning in way too close to her partner and she could see his obvious discomfort as she threw herself at him. The proof was looping in vivid color on her phone. She clapped her phone shut and ran into the bathroom.

Booth had just stepped out of the shower and was toweling off when Bones barged in. Startled and still dripping, he bunched the crinkled towel in front of his important areas, "Bones! I'm kinda naked here!"

She paid no attention to his lack of clothes, "I've seen you naked before. Angela just sent me some video from Hodgins' phone..." As if waiting for a cue, her phone rang in the other room. They both ignored it.

Booth shimmied the towel around his waist, "He got _video_?" His list of who he was going to shoot was getting longer by the day.

Her eyes dropped to the floor, "I don't know what happened, I saw how embarrassed you were. I'm so sorry."

"Hey Bones, listen, it wasn't your fault. You must've just had too much to drink or something. You weren't yourself, that's all." Her eyes didn't move from the floor. His left hand pinning the towel around his waist, he took his right and nudged her chin until their eyes met, "We'll figure it out. It's OK." He watched her eyes as she retreated behind her walls, "Just let me get dressed and we'll think of something, alright?"

She stiffened, "Of course." She closed the door firmly behind her.

All Booth could think about while he got dressed was how in the hell he was going to run damage control on _this_. There were too many witnesses, too much had happened right in front of them. How was he going to protect Bones from herself? As he ran his hand through his wet hair, an idea yanked on his brain. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He slipped on wet bare feet as he tore off down the hall, "Bones! You're a genius!"

As he'd hoped, he broke straight through the wall of gloom that surrounded her as she huddled on the couch, "Booth?"

"It's perfect!" He grabbed both her hands and pulled her up into a little dance, "Last night was the first night of the rest of our lives, baby." Bones allowed herself to be spun awkwardly around the room, but she obviously wasn't catching on. He planted a little kiss on the end of her nose, "You did it!"

She bit her lip nervously, "I don't understand. What did I do?"

"You, my little genius baby, broke the ice in front of God and everybody. Now none of them can doubt we're dating," he laughed.

"But, that's not how I normally act in social situations with a mate, Booth."

"_They_ don't know that." His smile was almost contagious.

She wasn't quite convinced, "But I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I..."

"You didn't embarrass me. OK, maybe just a little. But that was only because I thought you may have had too much to drink. You were brilliant! You kept us right on target, Bones." This was the Bones he'd fallen for, not the vixen from last night and he found it hard to resist kissing her, fuzzy bathrobe and all. So much had happened in the last few weeks, he was weakening. The war that had been going on inside his head and his heart was coming to a close. His heart was rounding up the over-thinking brain cells and making them prisoners of war. If this was the only chance he was ever gonna get to show her what love really was and how much he had to give her, he was going to make the most of it. For the first time in a very long time, he made himself vulnerable; he pulled her in and kissed her.

Bones broke the kiss a few moments in with questions in her eyes, "Booth?"

Some of those surrendered brain cells actually went turncoat. When she pulled away his answer was ready, "Research, baby. You said it yourself." He dipped his head for the second time, and this time she didn't push him away.

_Insert dancing fuzzy bathrobes line break here. :)_

Dr. Zack Addy sat in a quiet corner of the dayroom. While other patients painted and stared aimlessly out the window, he buried himself in research. Dr. Wyatt's puzzle had proved most intriguing. At Dr. Sweets' insistence, Zack had studied psychology with a critical eye to the illogical leaps and assumptions made. Dr. Sweets had assured him when the time came for his release hearing, he would need to show empathy and remorse to the board of doctors that would decide his fate. Zack honestly wasn't sure he knew how, and despite the young psychologist's explanations, he found most of his answers in books and white papers. While it didn't make any logical sense, Zack had an eidetic memory and was able to pacify Dr. Sweets after some study.

When Dr. Wyatt had presented his puzzle, it hadn't occurred to him to draw upon that knowledge at all. Everything he needed to see into Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth's relationship was apparent to his logic and over the span of several weeks the answer slowly uncovered itself. Solving any puzzle was always a joy to him; solving a problem plaguing Dr. Brennan was a coup de grace. He owed her so much. He was through disappointing her. In his excitement, he grabbed a pen and paper and began to scratch deliberately and carefully:

_Dear Dr. Brennan, _

_After doing thorough research by speaking to several subjects and cross-referencing heavily here in the lending library, I thought it was only fitting I share my findings with you. Knowing you are very busy, I thought perhaps a letter would fit into your schedule more conveniently. I hope you find this to be the case. _

_In exploring and researching love with yourself and Agent Booth as my test subjects, I came to a single conclusion: The risk has to be removed from the equation for you and Agent Booth to have a chance at a successful relationship; in more colloquial terms, your proverbial 'happy ever after'. This letter intends to do just that._

_Dr. Brennan, I am about to divulge a confidence that will permanently alter your perceptions and your equation in your relationship with Agent Booth. As you are well aware, I do not lie. I do not find it logical. Please use the information I am about to give you with your best judgment, as I am sure betraying Agent Booth's confidence will result in my coming to bodily harm. _

_Weighing the importance of the breakthrough with the thought of physical pain, I have decided to take a calculated move and divulge his confidence: He loves you. He told me over the phone two days ago at 9:17 AM. He also stated that he would never intentionally hurt you. Of course, in an effort to make a full disclosure, he may have said the second part under duress, as I also threatened him with bodily harm._

_The risk now being removed from your relationship, please feel free to copulate, raise young and bestow my name on your first born._

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. Zack Addy_

_P.S. Please attempt to influence Agent Booth not to harm me. It would be detrimental to his career. I also have made friends with several very muscular rodeo clowns who were most upset when I revealed he shot a colleague of theirs._

_Insert dancing postmarks line break here. :)_

At the mention of her name, Cam was shown to the kitchen in Gordon's restaurant, where Caroline was already sitting at the chef's table. They exchanged friendly greetings as Cam sat down. Gordon called out from across the kitchen and bustled to the table, two steaming plates in hand, "Camille! So good to see you! You're just in time to sample something inspired by the lovely Miss Caroline. Jambalaya de Wyatt!" He placed the steaming plates of food in front of the ladies and planted a firm kiss on Caroline's upturned cheek.

The mood was light, the food was excellent and talk of work soon fell by the wayside. Gordon even managed to pull a chair up to the table for a few moments. Banter eventually turned to Friday night with Caroline being the first to speak, "Did you see Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth Friday night? Oooh Cher! I thought that boy was going to slip through the floorboards in embarrassment!"

Debating whether or not to let Caroline and Gordon in on the bet didn't take long. So many people were actually in on it already, it seemed like they should already know. Cam smirked with conspiracy, "Well, I think I know what may have been going on." And just like that Cam filled them in on the Office Pool. She followed up with, "I'm not quite sure who did what on Friday, but I can tell you that when I was walking out to my car, they were still out in the street kissing. And no matter what Dr. Brennan says about it, she was most definitely not kissing her brother."

Gordon laughed, "You mean all this time you've been masterminding..." He laughed out loud, "Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan?"

Cam just smiled, "Well it seems to be working."

Caroline harumphed, "Working, my big foot! Those two are pulling the wool over your eyes, Cher."

"I saw them in the street..." Cam insisted.

Shaking her head emphatically, Caroline poked a finger across the table, reinforcing her point, "The whole place didn't go up in flames did it? Then it ain't real. I guess I better put my two hundred dollars in the pot, honey. You're not the only one who has been busy!" Caroline proceeded to explain about the pretend stalker and the super-secret training exercise she'd lined up.

"But if no one was there to witness what happened in the street, how can you be sure it was anything but Dr. Brennan following through on the flirting she'd been doing all night? I know Sweets, Vazeeri and Wendall were planning something this week."

"Well, maybe they thought that my stalker was out in the street watching them. Who knows? All I can tell you is you should expect to see Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan getting hot and heavy. He's gonna ask her to marry him and she's going to accept. The FBI has already ordered the cake." Caroline was like a cat with a cornered mouse.

Gordon was laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face, "Well, I guess you'll be getting my two hundred as well. I went to see Dr. Addy..."

Caroline's plan had put a serious dent in Cam's plans. And Zack was a complete wild card. It wasn't that she minded Caroline and Gordon joining in. It was just going to be that much harder to figure out who won the pot.

_Insert a shower of money line break here. :)_

On Monday another dozen roses was waiting on Brennan's desk when Booth entered her office. With all that was happening, he'd completely forgotten about the flowers! Bones had stopped by the platform and was lecturing her interns about keeping the work area clean. He sighed with relief, knowing she hadn't been in here yet. He closed the door behind him. He opened his phone and dialed Perotta.

After a brief conversation with her, he placed another phone call. This one to his grandfather. Pops had been less than cooperative. As a matter of fact, he'd ended the conversation by hanging up on him, but not before speaking his peace, _"I'm sure as hell gonna meddle if I feel like it. You better start taking credit for those roses or you're gonna wind up explaining why your grandfather has to do your dirty work._"

As Bones climbed the steps, Booth threw open the door to her office and said, "Surprise, Bones!" Right then and there with four interns watching, they put their earlier research to the test.

_Insert ticking time bomb line break here. :)_

On Tuesday night Lance Sweets was pumping his fist out of victory in the conference room. Four of the interns had witnessed Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan kissing several times over the past two days. Adventure Man had won the day. After Booth had dragged Dr. Brennan from the Founding Fathers, Adventure Man had peeked out the door and seen them up against her car in the street. There was no feasible way after a kiss like that they weren't going home and... well... Let's just say the pot was safely his and that new car he'd had his eye on would be in his driveway by the weekend.

When everyone had settled in Lance was puzzled by the appearance of Dr. Wyatt and Miss Julian. It was over. Why were they...

Cam interrupted his thoughts, "OK gang. We've hit a snag." The group hummed with questions, but she pressed on, "I know what you thought you saw on Friday night. I know _I _thought we were mission accomplished. But we're not."

Lance saw the car disappear out of his driveway with an imaginary pop. "Hold on a second! I was responsible for Friday night! I put a love potion in Dr. Brennan's champagne right before we left the banquet!"

After the guffaws subsided, Caroline stood, "Love Potion or not Dr. Sweets, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan are now officially dating as part of an FBI undercover operation."

Surprise, dismay and downright groans erupted in the room. As Caroline continued to explain she underscored the fact that no one in this room was supposed to know anything. They had to act like they hadn't seen it coming, and were truly happy for them.

The focus of the group had been destroyed. Everyone agreed it was going to be difficult if not impossible to figure out who won the pot. With the unveiling of Caroline's master plan, the rules of engagement – literally and figuratively – had changed. The strategy now turned to making the most of the opportunity given to them. They only had a few weeks to make them fall in love. Or, at least admit it to one another.

Vazeeri was the first to speak, "Unfortunately, testing our secret weapon had taken longer than we anticipated. We were going to give it to them on Friday at the Founding Fathers. Then it seemed like we wouldn't need it. We still have sodium pentathol." Throughout the uproar that followed Wendell was trying hard not to show his disappointment at losing the pot before they even had a chance. He wanted Booth and Dr. Brennan together, sure, but he and his mom had bills to pay. He guessed he'd be going back to working nights at the bar to make ends meet. Such was his life.

Mr. Nigel-Murray shook his prescription bottle, "Plenty more Viagra."

Dr. Wyatt spoke for the first time, "Zack is still working on a solution. I know he's been in contact with both Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth."

Hodgins swiveled in his chair, "You got Zack involved?"

Gordon-Gordon laughed, "Not that he knows it. I presented it as a puzzle. He seems to be doing admirably."

Sweets frowned, Zack was his patient, "Zack has sociopathic tendencies. I don't think that getting him involved..."

Wyatt cut him off, "Dr. Addy's sociopathic tendencies aren't because he is a textbook sociopath. They are generated from naivete and a lack of desire to experience anything further. I simply created a puzzle for him out of Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth's relationship. He hates psychology as much as Agent Booth does, but he does love puzzles. I thought this was an excellent way for him to wade forth into empathy. I don't see why we should exclude him. I think we all know he never really did anything wrong. No matter what anyone says. He simply isn't capable of it."

Caroline jumped in, "Honey, if you two wanna talk psychobabble, do it outside. We got ourselves a wedding to hijack." And with that, the entire group fell to scheming.

At the end of the night, plans firmly in place, Mr. Vazeeri asked Dr. Saroyan if he could walk her to her car. By the end of the walk, they had a plan of their own.

_Insert little smirking Zack heads line break here. :)_

Finally at home for the night, Booth collapsed on Bones' couch. As if strategically planning when they were going to be seen over the past few days wasn't bad enough, kissing her regularly was definitely taking a toll on him. A man only has so much self-control. Bones seemed completely unfazed. Maybe Zack was right. Maybe he should just spin her around and take her in his arms... A knock at the door interrupted him.

Booth crossed the room, checking his sidearm. He used the peephole and opened the door. Max Keenan walked in struggling with two huge pieces of luggage, "Booth. What are you doing here?"

He couldn't stop himself, with some measure of satisfaction he announced, "I live here now, Max."

Clearly displeased with the thought of his only daughter shacking up with the enemy, er FBI, he kept his sentences curt, "Is Tempe here?"

At the sound of her name Bones entered from the kitchen. She leaned in and gave her father a kiss on the cheek, "Dad! What are you doing here? What's all this?" She gestured to the bags in a heap at his feet.

"Hi kitten. I got evicted. I was hoping I could stay with you for a few days, but it seems you already have company." He shot a glare at Booth.

Bones let out a gasp of horror, "Evicted? Dad! What happened?"

He shrugged, oozing fatherly charm, "My landlord died last week. The kids inheriting the building have decided to turn it into low income housing for the tax break. I have until the end of the week to get out. I was going to ask if I could stay here in the guest room, just until I find another place. I'd hate to miss work at the Jeffersonian." He sighed melodramatically and with a pointed look at Booth, began heaving up his bags, "I'll just call Russ."

Booth's eye twitched. Something was off. But Bones, with her heart of gold was already lowering his bags from her father's shoulders, "Of course you're not calling Russ, Dad. You can stay in the guest room."

Max protested, but only slightly, "But what about Booth? Where's he going to sleep?"

"We're dating. He sleeps with me." As cool and collected as an ice cube on the outside, on the inside Booth's gut was screaming in terror.

"Haven't I taught you anything about not sleeping with the enemy, kitten?"

"Dad, why don't you come give me a hand in the kitchen and Booth can go put fresh linens on the bed." Booth caught the look. Empty the guest room of any trace and throw it in her room. He could do that. He just wasn't sure what was going to happen when they actually went to bed together.

**Oh, yes my lovely readers, there is more to be posted. See that little review button on the bottom? *holds up shiny pocket watch and dangles it in front of your eyes* You feel compelled. You simply must send a review right this second. Pressing the review button feels like petting little fuzzy kittens... Get on with it! Right.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Three thousand plus readers! Wow, you guys have done the impossible: struck me speechless. While my little green men will be taking out your garbage for the next year, I have decided it just isn't enough. I'm going to reward you with a bit of fluff. *shoves dancing Mexican whooping llamas off the stage* Let's hear it for the llamas! I know, I know...Get on with it! **

Chapter Nine: Earmuffs, Syringes and Dumb Things Grown Ups Do.

After dinner was over and the dishes done, Bones helped her father settle in. Max opened a few drawers and put his clothes inside. He heard strained whispering coming from the kitchen as he pulled on his pajamas. Out of his coat pocket, he pulled a small vial labeled in Wendall's handwriting and buried it in a pair of his clean socks, stuffing the wad in the drawer as well.

Max Keenan was no fool. He knew his little girl was in love with Agent Goody-Two-Shoes. He sighed. Why couldn't she just find a nice felon? But he knew that wasn't up to him. He was determined that after missing the formative years of Tempe's life, what Tempe wanted he'd be damned if he wasn't going to get it for her, legally or otherwise.

When Max ran into Wendall at the end of the day, he was filled in on the situation. If anyone could make this happen, it was him. He'd ran home, packed his bags and showed up on her doorstep. Max knew with everything the rest of the Office Pool was doing, it was his job to turn up the heat and make sure it stuck. He grabbed his earmuffs and pulled them on before heading out to the kitchen.

Booth and Tempe stopped mid-sentence as he entered. He couldn't hear crap with these things on. He smiled warmly, "I just came in to say goodnight. I've got an early morning tomorrow." He kissed Tempe's cheek.

She backed away and grabbed at his earmuffs, "Are you cold, Dad? I can turn up the thermostat."

He swatted her hands and fixed them firmly back in place, "What? Oh! These! No. I just thought... I didn't want to interfere or be a burden. I was young and in love once, too. You're free to do as you please tonight. I can't hear a thing with these on."

Tempe blushed, "Dad!" He pretended like he didn't hear her and went to the guest room closing the door behind him.

_Insert Dancing Fuzzy Earmuffs line break here. :)_

Booth closed the bedroom door behind them and whirled, hissing frantically, "_He sleeps with me_! Are you crazy?"

Bones calmly turned the bed covers down on both sides of the bed, "I don't understand the problem. Everyone thinks we are dating and we are supposed to be..."

Booth threw a nervous glance at the door, "Everyone _thinks_! _Thinks_ is the operative word in that sentence, Bones! Now we're going to have to make your Dad think we're a couple at home, too!"

Bones took an oversize t-shirt with FBI written on it into the bathroom, "We need to keep up the charade until they catch the stalker. You know that." She walked out of the bathroom in nothing but – dear God, was that...

"Bones, is that _my_ FBI shirt?"

She hopped on the bed smirking, "It might be..."

"You sleep in my shirt?" He'd never get that image out of his head: Bones in nothing but his t-shirt. He was in so much trouble. His libido had been working overtime, he'd been kissing her all day, and now he was going to crawl in bed with her wearing his t-shirt. She was bringing him to his knees without even trying.

"You left it here." She drew circles on the comforter refusing to meet his eyes, "Besides, I find it extremely comfortable. I can give it back to you if you want." She reached down to her waist and began to lift it over her head.

"Whoa! Bones! You can't just take your clothes off in front of me!" He turned to stare pointedly at the wall.

"I don't see why not, Booth. I've seen you naked several times."

_Because you don't have sexual fantasies of your partner in nothing but your FBI t-shirt_, he groaned inwardly. He shook his head and raised his hand in surrender, "You win! You win, Bones. Keep the shirt."

"I intended to." She was stifling a giggle when he turned around.

He growled and grabbed his pajama pants and a clean t-shirt of his own, heading into the bathroom to change. When he returned, he opened the closet door, obviously looking for something.

"What do you need?"

"Extra blanket and a pillow. I'll take the floor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Booth. You have a bad back. You're not sleeping on the floor." She climbed out of bed and closed the closet door on him. She pointed at the bed sternly, "In. Now. _Baby_."

"I love it when you take charge!" He laughed. She tucked him in and kissed his forehead.

"Now get some sleep. I have an early day tomorrow as well." She climbed back in on her side of the bed and turned the lamp off. After a moment, "Now would be a perfect time to conduct our sexual experiment."

"What sexual experiment?"

"To find out if you are really as insecure with your sexual prowess as your 'Cocky' belt buckle leads me to believe."

"What? Bones! No! No experimenting!"

He put his head back into the pillows and sighed with frustration, inhaling her scent deeply. Lord help him, he was in Bones' bed less than two feet from her. He shifted two inches to the middle of the bed. Thirty seconds later, he shifted two more. On his third wiggle to get closer to her she spoke, "Does your back hurt?"

"No." He wiggled again.

"What's wrong Booth?"

"Nothing. I'm just getting comfortable." And nothing was going to make him more comfortable than sleeping with her in his arms. Maybe Zack was right. It wasn't going to happen until he came clean. "Bones, before we go to bed, can I ask you something?"

He heard the covers rustle as she rolled over to face him, "Sure."

"Something's been bothering me and..."

She laid a hand on his shoulder in the dark. He almost jumped clear out of the bed. "What is it, Booth?"

All or nothing. Snipers forward, hoo-yah. "Why did you go to the Malapoopoo Islands?"

"Maluku Islands. It was an incredible opportunity..."

He interrupted gently, "How about the version that's _not_ going on your resume?"

There was a long pause, "I don't know what you're asking."

He turned on his side in the dark to face her, "Bones, did I have something to do with you leaving?"

She sat up and turned on the light, "How so?"

"Did you even think about me at all while you were gone?" Afghanistan had been hell on Earth for Booth. Not because he was being shot at, but because he couldn't see Bones. He couldn't undo that damage he'd done.

"Of course, Booth. We're partners. I thought of you often."

"What would you think about?"

"I missed you Booth. I thought about meeting you at the coffee cart."

"I missed you, too. Any regrets? About leaving?" He finished quickly.

"No. I... Why are you asking me this?"

"I had a regret the whole time I was gone."

"Was it going back into a war zone? I know how difficult..."

"No."

After a long pause, she rubbed her hand lightly over his shoulder, searching his face, "What was your regret?"

"That I scared you that night in front of the Hoover."

"Booth, I..." Her eyes were wary.

"Bones I have to say it. Just hear me out, OK?" She dropped her eyes, and nodded wearily. "I never got to say the most important thing you needed to know that night. And I'm going crazy knowing I should have told you." He climbed out of bed, "Get dressed. We're going for a drive."

_Insert Dancing FBI T-Shirt line break here. :)_

Booth led her to the steps of the Hoover building. She bundled up against the February cold. Her expression was guarded, "Booth, what are we doing here?"

He stopped under the exact tree where he'd asked her to take a chance, "What do you remember from that night?"

"You kissed me." He grabbed both her arms and before she could protest, kissed her breathless.

"What else?"

"You asked me to take a chance on us." She murmured.

"What did you say?" His memory of that night twisted in his heart.

Tears welled in her eyes, "I said 'no'. I said I couldn't change. I still can't. Booth, I can't..."

He leaned his forehead on hers, "No one is asking you to change, Bones. No one."

"But I can't promise you fifty..." Her tears ran freely now.

"Bones, I didn't say everything that you needed to know. That's my fault, OK? Mine." He pulled her in and held her as she cried, speaking softly into her hair, "I needed to tell you that I love you. I did then and I do now." Her breath hitched in her chest as she froze like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. He plowed on, he wasn't going to make the same mistake of not being clear enough, of not saying enough. "I can't sleep in your bed with you and not want to hold you. And I won't have sex with you for the sake of some experiment because I can't just have sex with the woman I love. I want to make love to her. To you."

"But Booth I..."

He shushed her with a single finger over her lips. Now that it was started, he was getting it all out, "And I know you're not comfortable promising anything to anyone for fifty years. That's OK. Just promise me...if you love me, that every day we spend together you're going into it hoping there's going to be another tomorrow and another until one day fifty years does come. Promise me that." He desperately held his breath there under the bitter cold, clear sky and waited.

She pushed away from him to search his face for a full minute. Desperation made his eyes dance between hers. His lungs were burning. His heart was aching. He willed her to say something, anything. But she didn't. She only managed a nod. And that nod made him the happiest guy on Earth.

After he'd swung her around, her nose crinkled, "Booth? Does this mean all those guy hugs weren't really guy hugs at all?"

"No more guy hugs, Bones." And with that, he kissed her under the sparkling night sky on the steps of the Hoover building.

_Insert dancing stars line break here. :)_

The next morning Booth walked Brennan into her office and was kissing her goodbye when Angela walked in and cleared her throat. Even though she knew they were playing at being in love, it was sure hard as hell to tell the difference. Booth blushed slightly under Angela's smirk and left.

It was time to take Brennan's proverbial temperature. She'd been under tremendous stress lately, and as much as Angela herself had contributed to it, she just wanted to make sure Brennan wasn't being so stiff she broke under the pressure. She also had to figure out what else she could do to shove these two hard heads into each other's arms.

Angela sat on the corner of Bren's desk and raised her eyebrows, "So? What's all this about? Ooh! Nice flowers!" Long stemmed roses in crystal vases choked the coffee table, the spaces on the bookshelf and every empty corner of Brennan's desk, "How many did Booth send you?"

Brennan blushed every so slightly as she straightened the papers on her desk, "Nine dozen. What are you talking about? What's all what about?"

"You. Booth. The sucking noises that drew me in your office?"

She was refusing to look up from her desk, "Booth and I are... dating, Angela. It is customary for people to kiss when they..."

"Uh-huh. So how is it?" A conspiratorial smile spread over Angela's face. One thing played in her favor: Brennan couldn't lie well to save her life. It was definitely time to play twenty questions.

"It's...nice." Brennan's face got a faraway smile.

"Nice? You have the hots for a guy for six years and finally getting his lips wrapped around yours is just 'nice'? I'm not buying it."

"I did not have the hots..." She prickled.

"Yes. You. Did. Bren, there's nothing to be ashamed of. Booth has loved you forever. I mean..." She was expecting an argument and launched into her diatribe automatically.

"I know." She interrupted softly.

"He told you?" Angela squealed, jumping off the desk.

"Yes. We talked last night." She was so calm and collected.

"Did you tell him?" Oh my God! If she needed wild horses to drag it out of Brennan, her husband was a gazillionaire, she'd just use the black card.

"Tell him what?"

"That you love him." Her smile faded as she watched her best friend prepare to evade the question, "Bren? You didn't, did you?"

"Angela, love is nothing more than chemicals in the brain." Even as she said it Angela could tell she didn't quite believe it any more. Something had changed. There was no way Brennan was just playing at being in love. Hallelujah! Good old Studly was helping her see the light.

"If love is just chemicals, then you could have given me a shot and I would have fallen madly in love with Studly myself. But I didn't Bren, I fell in love with Jack. And I didn't need a shot to do it. I knew he was going to be there for me," She placed a hand on her belly, "For both of us. No matter what. Chemicals don't make men act like that, Bren. Love does that."

"Zack said something similar." Brennan mumbled, lost in thought.

"You talked to Zack about love?" Angela laughed with disbelief. That was the blind leading the blind.

"Last week. He said he finally understood it was not solely chemically based. He tried to explain, but I was running late." Maybe Dr. Wyatt was right. Maybe Zack was the only one who could explain it to her.

"Maybe you should go see him and hear him out." Angela paused at the door on her way out, "You love that man, Bren. And sooner or later he's going to want to hear it." _Because we all know if you say that to him, there's no way this is over when Caroline's 'stalker' is caught,_ she finished in her mind.

Brennan turned her attention to her desk. A letter that must have been hiding under one of her reshuffled piles came to her attention. The return address said Dr. Z. Addy. She opened the letter. Maybe she wouldn't have to go see him after all.

_Insert dancing syringes line break here. :)_

Parker dragged his book bag on the ground behind him. He couldn't believe it! She'd kissed him again. He'd have the girl-cooties for sure this time. At least his Dad was coming to pick him up from school today. Mom and her new boyfriend Fred were always kissing and stuff. It made a guy uncomfortable. He didn't need to see that.

As the SUV pulled up, he could see Dr. Bones in the front seat. Last night when Dad called he said he had something to tell him. Whatever it was, it couldn't be as bad as Emily Meekins slobbering on his cheek. He hopped in the back seat and buckled up, "Hey Dad!"

Booth turned around and watched his son buckle in, "Hey Bub! How's things?"

"Hi Dr. Bones! Boy am I glad to see you! The science fair is next month. Think you can help me?"

Dr. Bones smiled, "Of course, Parker. We should take time to organize your notes and make a plan..."

"It's his project, Bones. He can do it." Dad pulled away from the school.

"Of course he can, Booth. I'll only be supplying the scientific assistance." Yeah! You tell him, Dr. Bones! He knew he could count on her. Dr. Bones was cool and probably the smartest person on the planet. With her help, there was no way he wouldn't win first place!

"Hey Bub, how bout we go get some pie?" Uh oh. Dad only invited him to pie when he was going to miss a weekend. Facing the thought of another weekend watching his Mom and Fred chasing each other around the kitchen almost made him lose his appetite for pie. Almost.

"Sure, Dad."

They entered the Royal Diner and slid into a booth. Parker took the seat next to Dr. Bones so he could show her the cool idea he had for his science project. He and Dad ordered apple pie. Dr. Bones got ice cream. Dad was kinda quiet today, which was weird. Usually, he'd chew your ear off, especially if Dr. Bones was there.

When the pie came, he guessed his dad had worked up his nerve, "Parks, Bones and I have something to tell you. It's kind of important."

Dr. Bones nodded and swallowed her ice cream, "Your dad and I are getting married."

Whoa! Dad and Dr. Bones!

"Bones! That's not how you tell a ten year old..." He turned back to Parker, "It's not what it sounds like, OK, Bub?"

"You and Dr. Bones! Wow! Cool, Dad! Hey Dr. Bones does this mean I can call you Mom now?"

Booth shot her a hard look before trying to diffuse the situation. Bones would never agree to really marry him, but Parker would never understand that. He was too young. "It's for pretend, Parks. Just for pretend, OK?"

"You're going to _pretend_ to get married?" Parker saw his science grade plummeting before his very eyes. "That doesn't make any sense. Pops says you love Dr. Bones."

"Parks, it's not..."

"And Pops says you can't get cooties from kissing women, only girls. Dr. Bones is like the smartest lady in the world, Dad. You have to marry her _for real_."

Dad was getting a little mad. The vein in his forehead was doing that mad thing, "See, Bones? I told you I should tell him. Listen Bub, Bones and I..."

Parker wasn't going to be swayed, "Dr. Bones, you love my dad, don't you?"

A silence hung as all attention was turned to Bones. She played with her ice cream, "Parker, I'm in trouble."

The only time Parker ever heard of women talking about being in trouble was on TV when... Wait a minute. "You mean you're pregnant! Awesome! I always wanted a baby brother to beat up on! We're going to be the coolest family ever!"

"You see what you did, Bones? You see?" Dad slapped his hand over his face.

Dr. Bones put down her spoon and looked at Parker. He didn't usually understand much she said, but she used smaller words this time, "No, I'm not pregnant. And I think it would get very confusing if you called your mom and I both Mom. The reason your dad and I are pretending to get married is because there is a man who wants to hurt me. Booth and I are going to play a trick on him so we can find out who he is and arrest him."

"Me and Dad won't let anyone hurt you, Dr. Bones. If you married Dad for real, we could always be there to protect you. And I could have a new brother!" He reached over and put a hand on her arm. Dr. Bones would be the coolest Mom ever.

"The point is, Bub, aside from Bones and me, you're the only person that knows we're pretending. We have to keep it a very big secret or we might not catch the bad guy." Dad was whispering now.

"Dad, I'm only ten and I know this is dumb. You love Dr. Bones. She loves you. You guys should just get married for real. I'll ask Pops. He'll say it's dumb, too."

**Out of the mouths of babes. Parker also says to hit the little review button at the bottom. He says it makes you cool. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Wow. Strange posting error. Giving it another try.**

Chapter Ten: Daffodils, Doves and Commando Clowns.

That night when they got home a wonderful smell was coming from the kitchen. Booth sniffed the air. Was that meat? Oh yes! He may love Bones, but her vegetarian meals were grating on his last carnivorous nerve. Sufficiently distracted it took him a minute to notice the mountains of flowers all over the apartment. Daffodils and daisies. Buckets of them. Dump trucks of them.

Max came out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel, "I was getting ready to go look for an apartment this morning and the doorbell started ringing. It didn't stop all day. I had to put some in the bedroom, too, Kitten. We ran out of room out here."

Bones picked up a card from the nearest bushel of flowers and read it. "Booth! What am I going to do with all these flowers?" Booth tried to hide his surprise and kissed her cheek affectionately.

Max laughed, "You could have warned a guy. I had an appointment to look at a new place today. I had to move it to this evening. I've gotta go. Dinner is on the stove and I just poured two glasses of wine for you. Let me go grab them, then I really have to run."

Until today, Max had no idea Agent Booth was so stuck on his little girl. Nobody but a guy crazy in love would dump ten tons of flowers on a girl. He'd made him a steak as a special thank you. Max went into the kitchen and took the small, clear vial out of his pants pocket. Dumping half in each glass, he quickly pocketed the vial and swirled the glasses.

"Here ya go." Max handed them each a glass. "I've got a hot date tonight with Louise. She's a delivery lady for one of the flower shops. A real hot little number. Don't wait up!" And with that, the door shut behind him and they were alone in a wonderland of steak and flowers.

Booth set the table as Bones served dinner Russian style, filling the plates in the kitchen. The only empty space not taken up by flowers were two chairs on a small corner. They sipped their wine, side by side and ate the great food Max had whipped up. Booth had to admit, Max really knew how to cook his steak.

Chewing thoughtfully, Bones held up her wine, "Booth, how long do you think we should wait before announcing the wedding?"

"I don't know. Some people date for years before getting married. I've never really been in this position, Bones."

She used her napkin and began clearing the plates, "We don't have years."

Booth poured more wine. He was already feeling nice and fuzzy, "I know but it has to be believable. It has to be real. Er... seem real to our friends." _Nice catch there, idiot._

She shrugged, joining him at the table and picking up her fresh glass of red, "Some people think we've been sleeping together for years."

Booth laughed, "Yeah." It would be funnier if he hadn't wanted it to be true.

"I would have." She buried her face in a sip of wine, her eyes not meeting his.

"You would have what, Bones?"

She swallowed, "Slept with you. Years ago. Before we became friends."

"Yeah. So would I. And now that we've cleared up a few things I would now." Booth instantly put a hand over his mouth. _Did he just say that?_

"You would? So I could just ask you into the bedroom right now and..."

"It wouldn't go down like that, Bones. _I_ would be the one asking _you_ and we wouldn't just be sleeping together. We'd make love." _Oh, God. Stop talking Seeley. Just stop._

"Angela told me today that you are going to want me to tell you I love you. Is that what you mean by making love, sex but just saying I love you first?"

"No Bones. Making love is... it's just different then sex. It's about getting as close as two people can." What was wrong with him? He couldn't stop talking.

"Breaking the laws of physics?"

"Exactly." He gulped his wine. He couldn't talk if he was swallowing.

"I still don't understand that, Booth. Sex is sex."

"No Bones, it's not. Sex fulfills your physical needs. Making love fulfills your emotional ones. It's like sex, just with your feelings." _Shut up. Shut up. Shut up._

Bones chewed on that for a moment, "I've never done that, Booth. Are you going to show me?"

"Someday. Maybe someday." Only every night in his dreams and a few times a week in the shower. But that was it.

"But don't you love me? Didn't you say that's what people in love do?"

He choked on his wine, "What does that have to... Of course I love you. I told you last night. Didn't you believe me?"

"I believe you. You generally don't lie to me."

"Generally? I never lie to you." he suddenly felt a little nauseated, "OK, almost never."

"So you don't want to make love right now?"

"Don't want to? Bones, I would jump at it in a heartbeat if I thought you were ready." _Change the subject! Duck, dodge and weave, Seeley! For God's sake! _His gut was screaming.

"Why am I not ready, Booth? Is it because I haven't told you I love you as well?"

The deliberation he'd usually do in his head short circuited his brain and came pouring straight out of his mouth,"Yes. No. I'll just know, OK?"

"I do, you know. Parker was right. I do love you." She looked almost pained as she said it.

"I know, Bones." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, and he realized he really _did_ know. He'd known for a long time.

"You knew? But Angela said I needed to tell you."

"Don't get me wrong. It's the best thing anyone has ever said to me. It really means a lot. It makes me wish we were getting married for real. You're it for me Bones." _Seeley Booth you're going to scare her away again. Shut up, man!_

Suddenly her eyes filled, just a little, "Booth, I wish I could. I really do. I just... It's just..."

"Hey. Bones. It's OK. I'm not pushing. I'm just saying how I feel."

"Booth, I want to believe. In sex with emotions and weddings and naming our first child after Zack."

His brain threw on the brakes at the mention of Zack, "Whoa! Whoa! What about Zack?"

"He wrote me a letter. He told me you loved me."

Booth automatically felt around for his gun, "That little hamster pipsqueak! I'll shoot him!"

"Calm down, Booth. I didn't read it until this morning. He said you would probably try to hurt him for betraying your confidence. He said to remind you it would be detrimental to your career and something about his new friends, the commando clowns."

"Commando clowns?" Booth frowned. Did they really send clowns to commando school? Now _that_ was a scary thought.

She gripped his hand tighter to get his attention, "Forget Zack. The point is, Booth, I want to believe.' her voice dropped to little more than a whisper, "I just don't know how."

Hope bloomed in his chest, "Then do it, baby. Believe. I'll take care of the rest." He took a happy yellow daffodil from the bucket next to him and held it out to her.

"But this still means no sex, ah, making love, am I right?" She pouted. Booth sighed with frustration.

I_nsert Commando Clowns shooting guns with little flags that say BANG! Line break here. :)_

The next day Perotta had shown Booth what the FBI selection was for seized wedding rings. They were terrible. They either screamed Leona Helmsley or meth addict. The FBI wasn't going to cover him for going out and getting something appropriate, and at this point he wouldn't have accepted it if they had. He was the guy. The guy buys the ring.

The next morning after breakfast with Bones in her office, Booth made a bee-line for Hodgins' office. He found the fuzzy-haired bug guy watching something crawl under a magnifying glass, "Hey Hodgins."

Hodgins looked up, "Oh hey! I got the time of death on the..." He rifled through papers on his desk, looking for a file.

Booth dismissed it with a wave, "Get it to Bones, that's not why I'm here."

Hodgins pushed back from his desk, with a smirk, "This wouldn't have anything to do with the lovely Dr. B, now would it?"

"Maybe. Listen, Hodgins..."

Jack's voice turned to a suggestive growl, "You two seem to be getting pretty hot and heavy. All the interns are..."

Booth jumped in, "Put a clamp on it! I need a jewelry store."

Jack wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by without at least twisting the knife a little, "Let's see, it's not Christmas, Dr. B's birthday is in August...Oh ho! No way!"

"Just a name Hodgins. A decent jeweler. With things us non-billionaires can afford." Booth ground out.

"Well it depends what you're looking for, Booth. I mean there's a great necklace guy that Ange loves."

Squints. "Do I have to say it? I thought you were a genius. Obviously not. I'm going to pop the question to Bones and I need a ring."

Jack poked out his hand and Booth shook it, "OK. Wow! Congratulations, man! There's a lot of things to consider: color, cut, clarity, the setting. What kind of budget are you looking at?"

Booth was a little sheepish, "Well I've got a thousand saved..."

A thousand? A thousand wouldn't buy the box most of these places put rings in. Jack suddenly had an idea, he nodded appreciatively, "Not bad. That should buy something nice. I'd try Blue Heron over on G street. Ask for Armand. He's a pretty straight shooter."

"Armand. Blue Heron. G street. Got it. Thanks, Hodgins." Booth started to walk away, then thinking better of it, he turned on his heel and stopped long enough to loom over the squint, "Not a word, Hodgins. Not even to Angela. Got it?"

"Hey man, your secret is safe with me. Good luck. And if you need a place to hold the wedding, mi casa is your casa, if you know what I mean." As Booth left, Jack picked up the phone, "Yeah, I need to speak with Armand." He waited on the line for a moment, "Armand! Jack Hodgins. How are you? I'm good. Listen, I'm sending a friend over to pick up and engagement ring and I need a favor. Under no circumstances are you to tell him anything costs over a thousand dollars. Right. Whatever he picks out, just tell him it's under a thousand and bill the rest to me. Anything in the shop. That's right. You still have my card on file? Good. Thanks. I owe you one."

With that one move, Jack knew he'd get some hot baby momma lovin' when he got home tonight.

_Insert dancing engagement rings line break here. :)_

Hank Booth was playing canasta and winning big. The table full of ladies, his foxes as he called them, were hanging on every word of his old war stories. Nurse Godzilla marched up to him, "Hank, you got a visitor in the atrium." Funny, he wasn't expecting anyone. Except maybe Seeley. The ten thousand daffodils just might have been over the top.

Nurse Godzilla pointed to a man Hank hadn't met before. He narrowed his eyes and approached the table, "I'm Hank Booth."

The man stood and poked out his hand, "Max Keenan. I'm Tempe Brennan's father."

Hank gave a full, long belly laugh as he sank into a chair, "I guess the flowers got me in trouble after all?"

"Flowers? That was you?" Max roared with laughter, "Oh my God man, you should have seen the look on Booth's face!"

"Damn kid doesn't know a good thing when he sees it! You got yourself one beautiful daughter there."

"Why thank you, Hank. Mind if I call you Hank?"

"Why not? If I have anything to say about it, we'll practically be family."

"And see, Hank, that's what I came to talk to you about." With that, Max set into explaining the faked wedding.

"You've got to be kidding me! So all the flowers I'm sending are for nothin'?"

"Well, we're not the only ones that think Seeley and Tempe belong together. I came to see you today because someone enlisted my help."

"Who?"

"Pops!" Parker Booth flew across the atrium in front of a scowling Nurse Godzilla. He whispered as he got closer, "Sorry. I had to use the bathroom."

"Parks! How are you, son?"

Max explained, "I work at the Jeffersonian as the childrens' liaison. Parker is in my group."

"We blow soda bottles up, Pops!"

"That's great, son! I'm glad to see you. I hear you got something on your mind."

"Pops, Dad and Dr. Bones are getting fake married. Fake. Like not for real. It's dumb."

"Sounds dumb to me, too."

"I told Dad you'd say that."

"So what do you think we should do about it?"

"Well that's what me and Mr. Keenan came to talk to you about. We think they should get married for real. We need a plan, Pops."

Pops grinned, "Yes, we do. I'm sure we men can get to the bottom of this."

Parker beamed when his grandfather called him a man and turned to Max, "See? I told you he'd help us!"

Max leaned in to the center of the table, "So what do you think we should do?"

"Get her pregnant. All the ladies I see on TV get married when they have babies. Maybe Dr. Bones will, too." Parker replied innocently.

Hank Booth stiffened, "Parker, Tempe isn't that kind of lady. I've seen them together. They're definitely in love."

Parker was puzzled, why did Pops sound funny, "But Pops they never kiss or anything. Don't married people kiss?"

Max nodded, "Yeah, they do. We have to set the mood. The flowers were great Hank, but we're dealing with two very stubborn people here. We need more."

Parker thought until smoke came out of his ears, "Lovey dovey mood, right?" Both men nodded. Parker slapped the table, "I know!" He announced excitedly. "But I'm going to need some help."

_Insert Kissing Doves line break here. :)_

Cam was up to her eyeballs in scheming squints. She had been for weeks. It was getting so bad it was starting to effect their work. This was the third report she'd had to hand back to have them rewrite. She slapped it on her desk and sighed. This Office Pool thing had gone on long enough. Hell she even had a distro list in her email for it.

Opening the email she typed the following letter entering each address in the blind carbon copy section so no one else would know who had also received it:

_Hi Gang!_

_It has come to my attention that one of our own is really struggling to make ends meet. I don't want to embarrass anyone, so you'll notice you can't see who else this email goes to. I wanted to make a suggestion for the Office Pool money and take a vote. I think we should use it to help this person out without their knowledge. I have an idea how, but for the execution I'd like to keep that private. I'd also ask that you don't talk to each other about this. It would really hurt this person's pride if they knew what we were trying to do. Please reply with a single word: yes if you'd like to donate the pool or no if not. I'd like to think we can come together on this. As always, majority vote rules._

_Thanks,_

_Cam_

With a hope and a prayer she pressed send.

Cam had yet to take any action in the Office Pool herself and she was about to put this thing to bed once and for all. She picked up the phone and dialed Caroline. When the prosecutor picked up she opened by saying, "OK Caroline, enough's enough. I want this thing done and I need your help to do it."

When she'd finished explaining what she needed done, Caroline blasted her, _"Are you sure, Camille? You better be absolutely sure. I could lose my license for this."_

"I'm sure. If I don't get the lab back under control, we'll both be looking for another job. I still need to find someone else to help, though."

"_I know just the guy, Cher, and he'll be there. I guarantee it."_

_Insert skeletons giving piggyback rides to each other line break here. :)_

Scully sat behind the wheel of the rental car. They were broken down on the side of the Extra Terrestrial Highway in Nevada. Mulder poked his head out from underneath the hood, "Try it again!"

Scully cranked the ignition. Rur-rur-rur. Mulder came around the driver's side with both hands on his hips. "Well now what do we do? We're in the middle of nowhere."

Scully popped the door open, getting out to stretch. She covered her eyes and scanned the horizon, "Last town was thirty or so miles back. Do we have any water?"

Mulder searched around inside the car, "No. Just half a bottle of Dr. Pepper. But I guess we'd better get going. Maybe we'll be able to hitch a ride." They both lowered their sunglasses and began to walk back the way they came.

Five hours later...

Scully and Mulder dragged along under the warm early March sun. The Dr. Pepper had been gone for hours. Mulder was still beating himself up over losing his witnesses, "I just don't get it. We had them. They're in the car on the way to interrogation and then, poof! They're just gone."

Rolling her eyes, Scully pats him on the shoulder for the fourth time, "I told you Mulder, it could happen to anyone."

"Fifteen times?" He screeched in frustration. He looked up into the darkening sky, "They're out there, Scully. I know it."

Scully shushed him. Mulder whirled on her, "Look, I don't care if you believe..." She shushed him again. He was getting ready to let her have it when he heard a distant swoosh of the first passing car of the day. He could just make out a dot on the horizon. They both jumped in the road and began waving their arms and yelling.

A few moments later, a green and blue van pulled over and slid open the side door. A scruffy looking teenager poked his head out, "Like, you guys look like you could use a lift."

Scully sighed with relief, "Boy are we glad to see you. We've been walking for hours."

A large brown dog was spread out on the bench seat. He moved over as Mulder slid inside behind Scully, "Rop in!"

Mulder exchanged a glance with his partner, then looked at the scruffy teenager, "Did your dog just say something? Or was I out in the sun too long?"

The kid laughed, "Hey, like, I'm usually the only one who understands him. Yeah, like that's Scooby. I'm Shaggy..."

A small, bespectacled young woman in an orange sweater pulled her nose up out of a book in the back seat, "And I'm Thelma. That's Fred," she pointed to the driver. "And that's Daphne," and the front seat passenger.

"I'm Mulder and this is my partner Scully. We were chasing after some writers we believe have been kidnapped by aliens."

Shaggy jumped in Scooby's lap and quaked, "Soiks! Aliens!"

The dog grabbed his owner and hugged tightly, "Reah! Railiens!"

Fred just turned calmly from the front seat, "Well, we were on our way to the Extra Terrestrial Celebration in Roswell; but we can give you a lift."

Thelma piped in from the back seat, "Lucky for you, Mr. Mulder, you got picked up by professional alien un-maskers. We'll help you get to the bottom of this."

**Oh yeah, baby, and the silliness begins. Thanks again to Mulder and Scully. They really are a joy to work with; oh yeah, and they belong to Fox and Chris Carter. Scooby Doo and all it's characters come to us on loan from the cartoon giants Hanna-Barbera. No relation to the woman that we dare not speak her name. :) Scooby likes reviews better than Scooby snacks. Bet you didn't know that. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A little green man walks with a crutch across the Author's Notes section until he reaches the center. There he stops and says poignantly; neigh, pitifully,"God bless us, every one who reviews!" Get on with it! *punts alien* Right...**

Chapter Eleven: Gum Wrappers and Gum Shoes

Hopping out of the SUV Bones turns to Booth, "What are we doing here?"

He placed his hand on the small of Bones' back and ushered her to the door of the National Arboretum, "Rebecca called and asked if we could pick Parker up here. He must have had a thing." He felt the ring box in his pants pocket. He was still trying to get reservations at that swanky new restaurant to propose. Pulling a badge hadn't even helped. He was going to ask Director Cullen's secretary if she could make the call tomorrow.

"A thing?" She remembered a lot of things in school. Which was he talking about?

"A school thing, Bones. Field trip." Finding the door locked, Booth knocked on the glass.

"But they closed two hours ago, Booth." She didn't like this. Children did not go on field trips on Saturday nights.

"School trips don't just happen when things are open, Bones." Why was she so worried?

A security guard unlocked the door, "Agent Booth?"

Booth nodded and flipped out his credentials, "Yeah. I'm here to pick up my son Parker."

The security guard ushered them in and locked the door behind them, "Sure thing. We've been expecting you. Right this way."

He led them into the main glass hall and down a sidewalk, turning left and right between the softly lit plants. Finally at the end of the sidewalk, Booth froze in his shoes.

There in the center of the arboretum, amid twinkling white lights that decorated the nearby plants, stood his son in a tuxedo. To his right was a candle lit table set with two places. A white cloth was neatly laid over his left arm. As Bones approached, Parker pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit.

Her eyes were full of questions when she turned back to Booth, "What is this? Booth?"

Booth shrugged, folding himself into his own chair, "I have no idea. Parker, what're you doing bud?"

Parker was nervous, but he kept a straight face, "Dinner will be served shortly." He turned to an ice bucket and with some difficulty pried the pre-loosened top off the Champagne. Composing himself, he then offered the bottle over his arm for Booth's inspection, "Can I pour?"

Booth's eyes widened at Bones, she smiled broadly. Realizing his son was waiting on him he spoke, "Yes, please."

Awkwardly he filled the glass and moved to Bones, "And for the lady?" Booth suffocated a giggle in his napkin.

Bones pulled a face at Booth before looking up with gratitude to her small server, "Please."

Parker poured then wrapped the bottle in a cloth and set it back in the ice bucket. He returned to the table, "We will begin with a salad of endive, mixed greens and rad..." Dang it! He knew he was going to forget that stupid plant. He tried again, "Rad... purple lettuce." With that he bowed slightly and turned down a side path.

With Parker safely out of earshot, Bones leaned across the table, "Look at all the trouble he's gone to, Booth. This is beautiful."

"I can't believe he did this all by himself."

"He obviously didn't. Someone had to buy the Champagne. But it's the thought that..." She dropped off as she heard Parker scuffling back up the walk.

He placed the salads in front of them and asked ever so politely, "Will there be any thing else?"

Booth smiled warmly and ruffled Parker's hair, "No, thank you, Bud. This is great."

Parker ducked from under his father's tousle and whispered urgently, "No patting the waiter, Dad!"

Booth sat up straight as Bones smirked behind a fork full of greens. Booth fidgeted with his napkin, "No touching the waiter. Got it."

Parker straightened his jacket, taking something small from his pocket. He slid it quickly into Booth's lap. Booth waited until Parker had disappeared again before reaching into his lap and unfolding the piece of paper under the table. On it, in Parker's scrawling handwriting was written:

_Ask her for real. Please?_

"This salad is delicious. What did the note say?" Bones raised one eyebrow as she asked.

Damn. She'd seen it. "Guy stuff." He stuffed a huge bundle of greens in his mouth, "Wow! This is great! What kind of dressing is this?"

"Mushroom and cream. And if you don't want to tell me, that's fine, Booth. I was just asking." She placed another bite in her mouth.

Booth saw Parker on the edge of the shadows behind Bones making praying motions to him. "It's ah... you know, father son stuff." Parker silently stomped his foot and spun around in frustration.

The salads gone, Parker appeared again to clear the plates and top up their Champagne, "Our next course will be a lavender sorbet." With a small bow he was gone. When he reappeared he placed a delicate dish of off white ice in front of each of them, "Enjoy!" With this small bow he threw another note in Booth's lap.

Booth leaned across the table whispering, "You don't eat lavender. You put it in the sock drawer."

Bones picked up her dainty spoon and sampled, "Amazingly delicious, Booth! You really should try some right after you read Parker's note."

Booth leaned back slightly and unfolded the paper written in his son's hand. It read:

_Don't be such a chicken!_

_ASK HER!_

Booth shifted uncomfortably in his seat and inhaled his sock drawer ice cream. Bones raised an eyebrow, "Should I even ask?"

Wiping his mouth on his napkin, "Who knew sock drawers could taste so good, huh Bones?"

Parker returned, freshening their glasses and clearing the dishes. "This evening's entree, bowing to the lady's preferences, will be eggplant Parmesan."

Bones caught Parker's eye, "Thank you for going to all this trouble, Parker. It really is a wonderful evening." Parker said nothing, but blushed deep red as he bowed this time. When he returned bearing steaming plates of food Booth anticipated another note. To his chagrin, he saw his son slip a note to Bones.

Bones took a few polite bites of her eggplant. Booth was beside himself, "Don't you want to know what it says?" She unfolded the note under the table. In a child's careful printed hand it read:

_My dad is a chicken._

Booth stared pointedly at her as she neatly refolded it and placed it in her purse, "Well?"

"This eggplant is really fabulous Booth. I'll have to ask Parker where he got it."

Booth let his fork fall with a clatter, "So that's how it is. Et tu Brute?"

Parker appeared in the middle of the entree with a fresh bottle of Champagne. He poured into both glasses and replaced the empty bottle in the ice bucket. He also managed to toss another note in Booth's lap.

As soon as Parker left, he raised the little white paper in victory! "Ha hah!" He unfolded it under the table and read:

_Bet you wanna know what I said to Dr. Bones._

He looked on both sides of the paper frantically. Bones smiled, "Something wrong, Booth?"

"No, no. Good eggplant, huh, Bones?"

When Parker had cleared the dishes away he announced, "And finally, for desert this evening we have Asian pears in a blood orange and white wine sauce." He frowned at Booth before flicking a note in his lap. With that, he went to get dessert.

Booth opened the crumpled note, still sweaty from his son's hand. It read:

_Do it. Or I will._

Booth's eyes went wide with alarm as he crumpled the note in panic. What was that supposed to mean?

Parker reappeared carrying a tray. From the tray he served the pears then laid a miniature silver tray with a pen and a note on it in front of Bones. Bones smiled and waved the closed note at Booth, "I wonder what this says." She opened it. In Parker's writing it said:

_Will you marry my dad for real so you can be my Mom?_

_Circle one_

_YES or NO_

_P.S. I told you my dad was a chicken._

_P.S.S. We'd be the coolest family ever!_

Bones folded the note with a far away look in her eyes. After a few agonizing minutes she picked up the pen and made a circle.

"What's with the pen? I didn't get a pen, Bones! That's not fair!" She folded the note carefully and placed it on the tray. Parker bowed silently and took the tray, once again retreating down the walk.

"You should try the pear, Booth. The mix of blood orange and Asian pear is unexpected, but heavenly."

"The pear? Forget the pear! Bones what did the note say?"

Bones only smiled and took another dainty bite, moaning in pleasure. She pointed at her plate, "You're really missing out, Booth."

Just as Booth was about to jump out of his chair with nerves, Parker reappeared followed by several elderly string musicians. They began to play softly as Parker dropped to one knee. He turned briefly to his dad, "Somebody's got to be the man, Dad. I guess tonight it's going to be me." Booth was rarely, if ever, struck speechless. Parker reached for Bones' hand as he pulled a wrinkled piece of foil out of his pocket. He tried his best to straighten it into a circle before looking into her eyes, "Dr. Bones, my Dad really loves you. We both do. Will you marry us and make us a family?"

Bones began to tear up, but managed a nod and a quiet, "Yes, Parker."

Parker began to place the gum wrapper circle on the third finger of her left hand, but stopped and looked at her, as serious as a little boy could be, "You're going to marry him for real, right? No pretending." Her nod was enough to satisfy him, "Sorry about the gum wrapper. It was the best I could do right now."

"It's beautiful. I'm going to treasure it as long as I live." She drew Parker in for a hug.

Still hugging Bones, Parker beamed, "See Dad? That's how it's done."

"I'm glad you showed me, Bub. Cause see, I have this ring here..." Booth pulled the box out of his pocket. "Can you give us a minute?"

Before Parker drew away he whispered in Bones' ear, "Don't forget, you promised." Parker cleared the plates and withdrew, leaving only the musicians playing quietly in the shadows.

Booth placed his pile of crumpled notes on the table and got to his knee holding the ring box, "He's an amazing kid, Bones. He loves you almost as much as I do. But he said it best, will you marry me for real?"

He popped open the ring box and she gasped, "Booth! I thought you said the ring would be small!"

He chuckled, "You said that, Bones. Not me." He let her gaze at the ring, sweating bullets on the inside. Saying yes to his son was one thing. "Bones?"

"Of course, Booth. I already told Parker I would. I don't make promises I don't intend to keep." He slipped the ring carefully next to the foil band on her finger then kissed her until the world spun.

Parker ran out from the shadows where he'd been eavesdropping and hugged them both. Booth pulled away from them for a second, "So Bones, what did the note say?"

_Insert dancing little note line break here. :)_

Angela had shattered every piece of glass in the lab with her shriek when she heard Booth and Bren were finally engaged. She'd dragged Brennan right out from under Booth's nose after the entire lab had toasted them with coffee. Booth's coffee still tasted terrible, but he downed it anyway. He caught Angela's arm just as they were leaving, "Whoa, where are you going?"

Bones was digging through her purse, "Dress shopping, Booth."

Booth linked his arm in hers and kissed her cheek, "Great! Let's go!"

Angela unwrapped him from Bren's side, "Not this time, Studly. Brides have to have their secrets."

Crap. How was he going to protect her from the stalker when he wasn't allowed to go with them? Like it or not, he'd have to call for back up, "You know what? Agent Perotta was thinking about getting married to... to... that guy. So let me just call her and you girls can make a day of it." He flipped open his phone and called in the cavalry. "OK. She's on her way to pick you up. I'm gonna head over to the office and wrap a few things up." He kissed Bones, "See you at home?"

"Of course, Booth. I didn't know Agent Perotta was getting married."

"She's thinking about it, Bones. Kind of a touchy subject. It's an on again, off again kind of thing. Mum's the word, OK?"

"Mum's the what? Booth, a mum is a flower."

Booth leaned around to Angela, "You can explain? I've got to go."

She smiled, "Sure, Studly. I've got it. Come on, Bren. The Hoover is only a few minutes away, Agent Perotta will be here soon."

Booth speed walked past the guards and broke into an all out run once he was in the parking lot. He hopped in the SUV and made another call. "Yeah, I need a GPS trace on a cell phone." He gave the number. "Yeah it's important! No, it's not a suspect. It's a woman in protective custody. No, she didn't rabbit. Just. Do. It." Booth spat the last bit between his teeth.

He dove over his back seat and fished around. Ball glove, coffee cup, empty soda bottle. Com'on. Com'on. He continued to dig until he came up victorious. Baseball cap! Yes! He ran around to the back of his truck. Bats, car jack, crappy music CDs. Wadded up behind the cargo net he found an old hockey jersey. Yes! He pulled off his jacket and ripped his tie off, pulling the jersey over his head. He planted the cap over his hair and pushed on his sunglasses.

Traditions or not, Booth finally had his girl and he was not about to lose her to some scumbag stalker.

_Insert dancing wedding dresses line break here. :)_

Cam had checked and double checked. All the votes were in. She walked purposefully to Wendall's workstation where he was busy writing a report based off an injury chart. He turned and greeted her, "Dr. Saroyan! What can I do for you?"

"I'm glad you're here, Mr. Bray. I'm going to be needing some extra help while Booth and Dr. Brennan are on their honeymoon." Wendall winced, he'd just gotten his old job back as a bartender. It didn't leave much time.

"I'll see what I can do. I'm working a night job now, but I'll help out any way I can." Cam frowned. They might be too late.

Just then Vazeeri walked up and patted Wendall on the back, "Hey man! There you are! I thought you'd still be downstairs." He held out a wad of money, "This is your pool money. Dr. Saroyan has been handing them back all day."

Cam's eyes widened, but she lied along, "Right. I was just about to ask you if Mr. Vazeeri gave it to you."

Wendall took the money with a huge smile, "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

Vazeeri smiled at them both, then clapped his hands, "Right, well back to work." He walked off.

Arastoo Vazeeri was a surprising guy. His generous gesture had almost rendered her speechless, but she got back on track, "About that night job, I don't know what they're paying you, but the Jeffersonian has authorized a hundred dollars an hour for thirty extra hours."

Wendall's eyes popped open, "A hundred dollars an hour?"

Cam shrugged, "That's what they're paying. I wanted to ask you first because you write reports the way Dr. Brennan likes them done. But if you're too busy..."

Wendall laughed, "No way am I too busy for a hundred dollars an hour!"

Cam clapped her hands together with finality, "Good. That's settled. Mr. Bray, let's keep this between ourselves. I would hate to explain myself over and over if the other interns found out."

Wendall nodded vigorously, "Of course, Dr. Saroyan, whatever you say."

She smiled before turning on her heel, "Come see me in the morning for your new schedule."

"Thanks. I will." Wendall tipped back in his chair. Three thousand dollars in overtime! Plus the two hundred he'd put in the pool. How great was that? He'd surprise his mom and buy groceries on his way home tonight.

_Insert Little Green Men Bagging Groceries line break here. :)_

Booth hunched down behind the wheel after he parked across the street from The Exclusive Bride. Bones, Angela and Perotta had just gone inside. He hoped this wasn't going to take long. He watched various women go inside and some come right back out with sticker shock written all over their faces. Angela had to have picked this one. Bones was practical.

Two hours later he'd read every piece of reading material in the truck. He cleaned the little bits of french fries out from the floorboards and rounded up and bagged the trash to throw away later. God, he hated stake outs. He had the patience of a flaming stunt man without a fire suit, and he knew it.

Just as he was about to start looking for something else to do, the three women, came out the door, piled down with packages and bags. He could see something grab all of their attention and looked to it's source. A man in a dark coat wearing sunglasses. Sunglasses Man approached them and he saw Perotta reaching for her weapon.

That was all it took. Booth was out of the car and across the street like a streaker across Lambeau Field in January. He pile-drove into Sunglasses Man and took him to the ground, hard, screaming, "FBI! On your face!"

He was smugly clapping the bracelets on him before he heard Bones yelling, "Booth! It's Grant Shields! Booth! Let him go!" Booth climbed sheepishly up and watched his personal hockey idol climb to his feet.

Grant had road rash down the left side of his face where Booth had tried to push him through the sidewalk. His sunglasses were missing and his coat was torn. Booth winced as he tried in vain to brush the salt and ice off. He stopped abruptly under Grant's angry stare.

If he thought Grant was angry, oh man, Bones was furious. She was so mad she couldn't even complete a sentence, "Booth! What are you... Why did you... Dammit, Booth!" She stepped past him to fuss over Grant, "I'm so sorry, really. My fiancee overreacted. I will certainly replace your coat." Angela had found and was holding up his mangled sunglasses, Bones closed her eyes and visibly calmed herself, "And your sunglasses. And we have a first aid kit in the car for your face."

Grant was barely listening to her. He looked between Bones and Booth several times, finally pointing to Booth and laughing, "Tempe, this is your fiancee? Booth?"

"Yes and he's very sorry. Agent Perotta has returned with the first aid kit and..."

Grant and Perotta's eyes locked. She looked flustered just for a moment before opening the kit and offering, "If you'd like to take a seat over there I'll see what I can do about your face." He smiled. She smiled back.

Booth ripped a corner from one of the shopping bags and scribbled furiously. He passed it to Grant, who could barely peel his eyes from Perotta long enough to read it. It said:

_She's available_

_likes skydiving, Italian and action movies _

_(414)555-1212_

Grant looked up from the note with a broad smile, "Some hit, Booth. I'd like to meet you on the ice sometime."

Booth sighed inwardly with relief, "Anytime, Grant. Anytime."

**Hold on to your llamas, lovely readers, the final chapter is upon us! If I made you laugh, please make my day and send a review. Prepare for the silliness to come. If you liked the prologue... read on.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Here it is folks! The final chapter! I don't want to make you wait, so please join me for a few words at the end.**

Chapter Twelve – Finally! Getting On With It

A week later...

Booth picked up the phone and called Caroline, "Hi Caroline! It's Agent Booth."

Caroline growled through the line, _"I know who it is. I am up to my hind parts in cases. Cases _you_ gave me. Oh wait. Don't tell me. Another one?"_

"No, Caroline. I just need you to change the license for the wedding."

"_Again? Don't tell me you're backing out now, because Booth I will personally come over there and kick your hind end so far up your..."_

"Caroline! Caroline! Whoa! Wait! I need you to put our real names on that paper. She said yes!"

"_Well that's just great Booth! I'm happy for you. Really. I am. But do you think these licenses grow on trees? You think I have time to make a special trip up to that courthouse just for you?"_

"Caroline, please. I'm begging you. I'll owe you so big for this!"

"_You damn right you will!"_

Caroline hit END on her cell phone stifling a giggle. "Well I'll be damned. Cam was right." She looked down at the license in her hand. Seeley Joseph Booth and Temperance Joy Brennan were already printed neatly on the lines in question.

One month later...

The day was perfect. Puffy white clouds floated lazily by overhead as the guests took their seats at the Hodgins' estate to witness the wedding. Rows of white chairs were placed in front of a dais decorated with daffodils and daisies. The gardens were in full bloom. A dance floor and banquet had been set out on the South Lawn.

When the music started, Angela and Jack followed Jared and Padame down the aisle. Overseeing the ceremony, Dr. Gordon Wyatt wore a long white robe as he prepared to lead the ceremony. Booth soon joined him at the front and tried to cover his shock finding his former therapist was marrying them. But Gordon-Gordon winked and said, "Before I went to culinary school, I spent some time following the Dali Llama getting in touch with my spiritual side. Don't worry."

Parker bore the rings with unwavering decorum and handed them to his Father, whispering, "Bout time, Dad." Booth smiled and ruffled his hair.

When the Wedding March played, Max Keenan had the distinct pleasure of offering his arm to his lovely daughter. Today, she glowed with happiness. She was a vision in form fitting ivory silk. As the music played, they processed slowly and proudly to a nervously waiting Booth.

Booth had never seen Bones look so breathtakingly beautiful. As she got closer, he could see the tears shimmering in her eyes that mirrored his own. As Max pressed her hand in his he leaned in ever so slightly and whispered, "Don't break her heart. I know where to find you."

Bones' eyes went wide and she hissed, "Dad!" Booth just chuckled. Felon or not, he understood Max, Booth was getting the best Max had to offer and he was right to show one last protective hackle.

Bones turned to Booth, finally understanding what marriage was all about. He brushed lightly at her threatening tears and taking both her hands, squeezed lightly. He raised his eyebrows, asking wordlessly if she was ready. She took a steadying breath and nodded firmly. Booth's smile at that moment could have lit up Washington D.C. all by itself. They turned to Gordon-Gordon as he began with a horrible speech impediment:

"Mawwage, the weason that bwings us togevver today..." Looking into the crowd, all of their family and friends were present. Some were smiling, some tearing up, some sniffling behind handkerchiefs. Finally after almost seven years, Booth and Brennan were tying the knot. As Gordon droned on, a tussle began across the lawn.

A very large, very green man was running across the grass, peeling tackling FBI agents off him as he ran. When he reached the back of the chairs he pointed a finger in the air and yelled, "I object!" More agents scrambled to catch him as he stalked up the aisle. Brennan and Booth exchanged an identical look; _Who was this guy? _

A donkey backed up the aisle covering the giant man's back. He hesitated as he began looking around and hissed, "Uh, Shrek!"

The giant green man with funny ears pulled another agent off his shoulder and tossed him across the lawn. "Not now, Donkey!"

The FBI agents were regrouping behind Donkey and pulling their sidearms. Donkey's eyes widened in alarm, "Shrek!"

Whoever Shrek was, funny little ears and all, he wasn't about to be dissuaded, "I object!" He peeled two more agents off his legs and tossed them aside, "Fiona! I..." He looked up at Bones. He blinked. Twice. "You're not Fiona!"

Donkey marched up along side him, "That's what I been trying to tell you! You got the wrong wedding!"

"Wrong wedding? Er... Ah..." No one present had seen a green man blush before that day.

"Sorry!" They apologized repeatedly to Booth, Brennan, Gordon-Gordon and the audience as Donkey and Shrek started to back out making non-threatening gestures. Donkey laid in to Shrek in a dramatic whisper, "I told you not to take that left at New York! Next time I drive the dragon!"

"Sorry. Wrong wedding. Ah...Many happy returns?" With that last apology from Shrek, they turned and ran. At the end of the aisle a huge group of grass stained and disheveled FBI agents dog piled on top of them.

Donkey weaseled out from the back of the pile and stood angrily on all fours, shouting at his friend, "Now who's the ass, Shrek? Huh? Now who's the ass?" Two agents tackled him and they hauled them both away.

Booth looked at Brennan and shrugged; she shrugged back, obviously clueless. Gordon-Gordon cleared his throat, "Yes, well... Where were we? Ah yes... And wuv, twoo wuv..."

"I object!" The onlookers sighed at yet another interruption. A man in a rubber mask had appeared at the end of the aisle.

"Not again!" Booth sighed and scrubbed his face with his free hand. After six years and so much trouble, would he never marry the woman he loved? Bones frowned.

The masked man pointed at Booth, "You're not supposed to marry _her_! You're supposed to marry Hannah!" A ripple went over the crowd everyone looking right and left at their shrugging neighbors as they were trying to figure out who in the heck this Hannah person was. The masked man barreled on, "And you!" He pointed at Brennan, "You are supposed to be miserable and alone. There are no fairy tales, Dr. Brennan!"

From over the hill Donkey could be heard guffawing, "You hear that, Shrek? He says there ain't no fairy tales!" A scuffling noise, then, "Ow! Alright, alright I'm going! All ya had to do was ask!"

Booth squinted in thought trying to figure out who the heck this guys was as Fred and Daphne stood in the back row of the gallery, and yelled simultaneously while pointing at the masked man, "It's the stalker!" Twenty agents tackled him in a heap of arms and legs. Fred, Daphne, and Thelma walked over to the wiggling pile. Fred announced, "Now it's time to unmask the shady stalker!" He yanked the mask away to a collective gasp.

Thelma was the first to compose herself, "It's Heartbreak Handsome, the TV executive! He wanted Booth to marry Hannah to crash the ratings on the show. Then he could retire with the money he's made and not have to work any more!"

You could have knocked Caroline Julian over with a feather, "You mean there really was a stalker?"

Handsome wriggled impotently in the hands of the FBI, "And I'd have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!" From the buffet, both paws and his mouth full of food, Scooby giggled. Handsome hadn't played his last card, however and he screamed like a man possessed, "This isn't over! My writers will get you! They'll get all of you!"

Parker Booth wriggled out of the crowd and began yelling at Heartbreak Handsome, punctuating his words with swift kicks to the man's shins, "My Dad!" Kick! "Is gonna marry Dr. Bones!" Kick! "And we're gonna be a family!" Kick! "Dr. Bones said so!" Kick!

Angela Montenegro-Hodgins had been waiting for years for this day and her patience was simply gone. From the wedding party up on the dais, Angela grabbed her skirt with one hand and put two fingers from her other in her mouth and whistled sharply. In an instant, a shiny metal spacecraft dropped from the sky. Slightly larger than a dinner plate, the commando unit of little green men popped the hatch and the leader listened while she whispered. Slamming the hatch shut, the craft levitated above the crowd, lowering the memory annihilator.

Jack was beside himself seeing the little green aliens, "I knew it! I knew it!" Scully and Mulder stood from the gallery holding up two fingers in the peace sign with awed looks on their faces.

Angela leaned across to her husband wincing, "Sorry, Jack." With that, she covered her eyes as the red flash from the spaceship went off. In the confusion that followed the spacecraft disappeared and Angela announced to the entire dazed and bewildered crowd, "Booth and Brennan love each other and are getting married. There was never an Office Pool. And that man," she pointed to Heartbreak Handsome, "is a stalker that threatened Brennan's life."

Still wobbly, but ever the Deputy Director, Andrew Hacker stood shakily from his seat next to Caroline, commanding, "Get him out of here!" he pulled his jacket down, trying to regain his composure, "Now I don't know about anyone else, but I came to see a wedding!" A cheer rang out.

As the rings and final words were exchanged, Booth leaned over to give Bones a first kiss as his wife. This was the kiss to end all kisses. It held every ounce of love both of them had held on to from every day of the last six years.

In the background, a pile of agents are dragging, pushing and pulling Donkey and Shrek away. Donkey stops to watch them kiss and sniffs, "Now, isn't that nice? I'ma get all teary eyed. Anybody got a hanky?"

**From behind the multicolored final curtain, a small red-headed figure appears and takes a bow. I want to thank all of you for your lovely reviews, comments and the literally hundreds of story alerts and favorites. I'd also like to thank Mr. Hart Hanson for being a good sport. Mr. Hanson, with all the angst and bitterness you're allowing in the show in season six, I feel it only fair to state: you're losing loyal viewers. Bones was never just another forensics show, it was about the family surrounding the cases that kept Bones at the top of the ratings. People don't want angst and sorrow, Mr. Hanson. There's enough of that in our own lives. We watch television to escape. I hope you'll keep that in mind before you continue this season. If not, consider yourself well warned by the Bones community here at FanFiction.**

**I like to thank the cast of hundreds that led us to the conclusion of our story:**

**_Bones_ the television series and it's characters are copyright to the Fox Network, Hart Hanson, Kathy Reichs and Temperance Brennan, LP.**

**Gordon-Gordon's lines, right down to the speech impediment, came from the wedding scene in _The Princess Bride_.**

**Shrek and Donkey are from the _Shrek_ animated feature films by Walt Disney.**

**Fred, Daphne, Thelma, Shaggy, Scooby and the Mystery Machine are part of _Scooby Doo_, an animated television series by Hanna-Barbera.**

**Scully and Mulder are from the Fox/ Chris Carter television series _The X-Files_.**

**The little green men are my own.**

**Thanks for guest starring gang! I promise Scooby, next time you get your own trailer. As always, no copyright infringement was intended, we were just having some fun.**

**Thanks for reading, reviewing and laughing along with me. I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. *Takes a bow***


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